Edge of Life: Requiem
by Gammabeta99
Summary: Sequel to Edge of Life. Two years have passed since the Second Battle of Beacon Hill. Follow the story of Rose and Kira as they make their way through life to find what was lost to them, is he truly gone? Or will the slightest glimmer of love and hate ignite the fires for the fallen Arc once more? HIATUS
1. Awakening

**Author's note:**

 **So I'm just going to straight up say it, you haven't read through the original Edge of Life then you will have no idea what's going on in this story. Go read that then come back.**

 **Now on with the story...**

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter One

Beta: Smithrooks

Awakening

Rose and Kira were situated deep inside one of the few remaining bunkers left behind by Cinder; the crazy bitch used to have dozens of bases just like this one, all designed for the sole purpose of cloning her a massive army to conquer the world with.

But this was the last base left undiscovered by the authorities; all the others had been seized and promptly destroyed by the councils as soon as they were discovered, all in the fear that someone like the Queen would try to continue what Cinder had set out to do.

"Come _on_ ," Kira urged her older companion, her pale lavender eyes showing her impatience. "13 could need our help! We can't just leave him."

Rose just smiled, her silver eyes flickering over to the small form of the cloned Kira. She had started ageing normally after she was released from the cloning pod, and in the two years since the Second Battle of Beacon Hill Kira had gone from looking like a scrawny little 10-year-old to a marginally less scrawny 12-year-old, something Rose took great delight in reminding the girl of. "Patience, I just need to finish this message to my younger self."

"Well hurry up then," the younger girl demanded, "I don't even know why you bother with her, she's the reason the world is at war. Without her guilting you, we wouldn't have told Mistral about the reactor."

Rose winced, Kira wasn't exactly wrong. "I know, I shouldn't have listened to her, but she is still family… sort of."

"Whatever, just hurry up." Kira's raven-coloured hair swayed as she turned away and fiddled with a computer. "This place doesn't have the power to open a portal for more than a minute or so. So once I start it up, there will be no second chances."

The AI of Solus suddenly sprang up, the insane version from Rose's time that is. The AI from this timeline was with Yang and Ruby, doing god knows what. "Maybe that's what young Ruby wanted?" the burning red and dual-toned voice of Sigma whispered. "To cast the world into war so she could gain something… if you act now to stop her, then we may still have a chance…"

Kira didn't say anything, she didn't like talking to the crazy fragmented AIs; they made her feel cold inside. Knowing that this is what her beloved 13 had become… that after her death he had fallen so far… it was never meant to be like that. When she had first started to lead him down a darker path it was for fame, riches and glory; not violence for the sake of violence.

Rose grimaced as her least favourite AI tried to manipulate her. Again. "Enough Sigma, I am not going to kill _myself_."

Sigma tittered, the flame-like wisps still clinging to his form. "Disappointing, I was interested to see what would happen."

Ignoring the thoroughly put out AI, Rose turned to Kira and announced, "I finished the message, fire up the portal and let's get going."

As Kira's hands danced across the keyboard she muttered, "About bloody time…"

A swirling violet portal appeared on the other side of the room; chaotic energies spat and sizzled around the gateway as it slowly stabilized itself.

Finally, Kira stepped away from the keyboard and moved over to stand by Rose, her lavender eyes slightly wide as she looked at the portal. "Hey, Delta," she started as the green-hued form of the logic fragment appeared before her. "You're totally sure this portal will lead us to the right place, right?"

"Affirmative," the green version of Solus replied. "There is a 98.37 percent chance that the portal will lead to wherever Alpha was sent to."

Kira nodded, then paused. "Wait, what? 98 percent? What the hell is the other 2 percent? Where would it take us?"

The hologram shifted to a deep ocean blue, signifying that it was now the Iota fragment. His joy. "Scattered in millions of molecules around the world!" He announced with a deranged grin, utterly elated by the possibility.

Kira just stared.

"Delightful," Rose muttered as she moved towards the portal. "Come on, we don't have time."

Kira sighed, then stepped forwards. "If I die… then I will be pissed."

Rose shrugged, "Meh, fair enough," then with a burst of speed the younger girl was unable to properly follow, kicked Kira through the portal.

"Heh," Rose chuckled. "If we survive she's gonna be pissed." Then she stepped through.

Deep, violet light burned through her vision, then she knew no more.

* * *

From the outside, the school of Beacon looked peaceful. There was still some time before students arrived for the new school year, so the grand structure should be quiet, peaceful even.

But in the office of Headmaster Ozpin it was anything but peaceful.

Qrow and Glynda were shooting fast-paced insults at each other; on video call the other headmasters of similar schools across the world were bickering like children, all shouting so their voices could be heard.

In the centre of the room stood Ozpin, a sea of calm in the chaos going on around him.

The reason behind the heated debates was a recent storm on the eastern edges of Vale's territory.

A deep, purple storm.

"Everyone," Ozpin announced quietly. The arguments ceased immediately; all eyes turned to him. "Enough bickering. We will go over this from the beginning, and then discuss it _calmly_ like adults."

The aged man only got a few sullen looks in response, but they remained silent.

"This morning, at precisely 8:21 AM on the outer edges of Vale, a sudden storm hit." Ozpin didn't move, his eyes slowly meeting those he was speaking to. "Normally, this would be no cause for any concern… but this wasn't any regular storm-"

"You're damn right it wasn't regular!" General Ironwood interrupted. "It was _purple._ We all know what that means… it was a portal."

"Yes James, it was a portal," agreed Ozpin. "But we cannot be sure if anything came out."

"Come on Oz," Qrow interjected, "last time there was a portal storm of this magnitude the man who started the Faunus Wars was spat out!"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Qrow is right," Glynda hesitantly announced. "But we can't just rush in there, we need more information!"

Gerrick, the headmaster of Shade Academy in Vacuo spoke up from where he was videoing in from the other side of the world. "Aye, we do. But we can't afford to hesitate. We need to get someone in there and neutralize any threat that may have come through."

Before anyone else could say anything, Ozpin quickly started speaking again. "Actually, we know something came through. I just received a short video from a nearby hunter's drop station."

"What?" Ironwood questioned, "Show us this video."

With quick strides, Ozpin covered the length of the room and placed his scroll on his desk. A second later, a 3D holographic screen appeared in the centre of the room. All eyes watched with rapt attention as the video played out, a turbulent storm whipping around and tearing through Forever Fall that was directly beneath it.

Violent flashes of deep purple lightning seared across the sky, and for a second there was a dark mass that tumbled through the storm front. But all too soon, the object vanished and the video ended.

"Play it again Ozpin," Ironwood urged. "But slow it down this time."

The aged headmaster complied, and the video played again.

This time there was no mistaking the dark object that appeared in the heart of the storm.

It was a man.

Frame by frame, the man tumbled downwards; it soon became obvious that the person was missing his leg however. The stump of his right leg was in sharp contrast to the fully intact leg beside it.

As soon as the man slipped out of view for the camera, the debate began again. "So something _did_ come through!" Qrow said with uncharacteristic seriousness. "We need to get something out there, put an end to this problem before it really begins."

"You can't be serious!" Glynda demanded, "If we rush in there guns blazing then we could make the situation worse! We need to send in a recon team, to scout and observe."

Headmistress Vermillion of Haven in Mistral was quick to agree, "Glynda is right, we can't handle a war right now. Perhaps whatever came through isn't hostile?"

"Whatever we do we must be quick, but more importantly, subtle," Ozpin declared as he retrieved his scroll. "No doubt the Queen has already gotten wind of this, we cannot allow her to get into contact with… whatever came through."

Gerrick of Shade hummed his agreement before saying, "That being the case, I think we should send someone in, someone subtle enough to not draw any attention but also fast enough to get there in time."

"Who would we send?" Vermillion asked, eyes looking to Ozpin for the answer. "The only one of us that isn't busy running a school is Qrow… and he hardly qualifies as a diplomat."

"I'm right here you know!" the man in question snapped.

"Yes, yes you are," she replied a tad condescendingly.

"Enough," Ironwood snapped, his patience at an end. "We must act now, Qrow is the best suited for the task right now. The rest of us are too far away to send anyone better within a reasonable timeframe."

"So be it," Ozpin sighed. "Qrow, do you accept the mission?"

The red-eyed man smirked, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Of course I do Oz, as much as I disagree with how we're going about this I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Very well, Qrow will go investigate the portal storm." Ozpin looked around the room; all eyes were on him. "Until then, this meeting is adjourned."

* * *

"A portal storm?" Cinder questioned, her sharp amber eyes wide with surprise. "Why… this was not part of the plan."

The flickering image in her mind's eye sneered at her, the glowing red eyes of Salem digging into her very soul. "It is now, that being has been adrift for a great deal of time. Whatever it is, it is strong; it feeds off the light but is powered by darkness. If you can make it serve us, we could gain a powerful pawn…"

Cinder quivered, her normally iron will shaken by the apparent displeasure of her master. "But what if it fights against us? Can we afford such a risk?" If Salem acknowledged something as 'strong' then Cinder knew that whatever it was must hold immense power.

"If it fights against us, then it shall be destroyed."

Cinder fought to keep her body still; if there was anything that Cinder hated, it was weakness. Especially her own. "As you command. Is there any more information regarding this… being, that I should be aware of?"

In her mind's eye the pale woman's bloody red eyes flashed, a clear sign that she was growing bored with the conversation. "It is old. Perhaps not physically, but its aura sustained it for a great deal of time, despite the fact that it was consumed by the crushing darkness of the void. Something even I would not consider facing lightly."

An old aura… aura did grow more powerful as time passed, but to survive the void between worlds? That… was not something to be considered lightly. "How old, my lady?" Cinder questioned, already dreading the answer. If Salem considered something old… "Will I be able to destroy it if it endangers our plan?"

Salem actually paused at that, her pale white skin searing into Cinder's mind even as no words were said.

"If it were at full strength? I doubt it." Cinder couldn't help but cringe; she needed to acquire the power of the Fall Maiden soon then. She couldn't afford to be outclassed by this… whatever it is. "But it is far from being at its full power," the Grimm woman said slowly, her voice almost turning _sad_ of all things. "The time in the void has left it weakened considerably, and it is… damaged, for want of a better word."

"Damaged?" Cinder questioned, "If that is the case, then why do we need it?"

Blinding pain seared through Cinder's mind as her master showed her displeasure at the question. "Do not question me." The pain slowly began to abate, if only slightly. "We could supply the means to restore it to full power, and I daresay that given enough time, it will recover on its own."

Cinder's iron will stopped the cry of agony that bubbled just behind her lips; she would not show weakness. Never again. "Y-yes my lady, I understand."

"Remember your place Cinder, this being is more than powerful enough to replace you if you no longer suit my purposes."

Cinder grit her teeth. She would show them, she would show them all. Salem included. "That will not be necessary."

A sneer, cold white features twisted into a look that would kill a lesser being. "See that it isn't."

And with that the connection was cut, and Cinder's mind was completely her own again.

 _One day…_ she promised herself. _One day even Salem will fear me. I have no master…_

But that day was not going to happen soon. With a sigh, she rose to her feet and stepped towards the door of her safe house; she had a Maiden to catch, and an unknown power to sway.

 _One day…_

* * *

Jaune Arc was lost.

Inky blackness surrounded everything. The crushing dark was all around him, consuming all light and smothering him.

But there was no pain.

He had battled Cinder, and he had won… sort of. After he initiated the self-destruct on his suit, he had felt pain unlike anything else he had ever experienced… but now there was nothing, just the endless sea of black that he now resided in.

At first, he had been scared. Was this the afterlife? He had wondered that for quite some time. If there was some kind of afterlife, then he knew he would be going straight to hell, eternal damnation and all that.

But there was nothing.

Time lost all meaning in this place, he could have only been here for a day or two… or he could've been here for over a century. Jaune didn't know anymore.

Things had started to slip away. Memories, faces… but he wouldn't let them go completely. He was Jaune Arc, last son of the Arc family. He wouldn't be bested like this. There were other things too, the darkness was absolute but he could _feel_ that there was more. Like a dream the more he tried to feel the void around him the less he could, the endless black served as his world for _so long_.

But as always… time wore on.

Eventually, after what felt like eons in this dark realm, there came a light.

Jaune stared at the light. It was so alien… so _different_ to the darkness around them.

A gentle purple… tear… pulsed in front of him, the blinding light so utterly alien to the surrounding black void.

Without thought, Jaune felt himself touch the light.

For the first time in what felt like hundreds of years, Jaune felt something.

 _Pain._

Searing agony speared across his body as a blinding flash of violet consumed his vision. Wind howled in his face, the sensation intensely alien. Colours exploded around him in a hail of greys, purples and greens.

It took Jaune a few moments, but as the wind howled past and pain lanced across the stump of his right leg, he eventually came to one conclusion.

 _He was falling._

Despite the agony that sprouted across his body, Jaune felt a smile split his face. He was alive, he could feel his heart beating… he could _see_ his heart beating, the wounds Cinder had inflicted on him were still there after all. But despite all this, he could only think one thing before he hit the ground.

 _It's good to be alive._

 **A/N**

 **Boom! Jaune is actually ALIVE!**

 **How many of you expected that? I hinted at this during the epilogue of Edge of Life but no one really picked up on it. Is anyone not happy with his survival? Displeased that his 'sacrifice' means less because he didn't die? I know a few people were sad that Jaune didn't get a happier ending, so maybe this is his chance to properly redeem himself… or maybe this is just a chance to fuck even more shit up.**

 **You might be wondering** _ **how**_ **he is alive, since he activated the self-destruct in his armour. Well dear readers, the answer is simple: purple!**

 **Seriously the answer is purple, every time any kind of cross-dimensional travel is depicted (in my stories anyw** **ay)** **it is shown to be purple. Everything from when Rose first traveled to the past to when Jaune 'died' is purple, this even carries over to my other new story. So when Jaune tried to blow himself up… he just got teleported away, in the exact state he was… all injuries… all wounds…**

 **Although it should be noted that I** _ **did**_ **warn you all in advance. Sort of.**

 **Way back in chapter one of Edge of Life I said that I "Take delight in creating plots and stories that revolve around half truths and preconceptions…" That's about as close as I could get to saying 'not everything will be as it seems.' as I could get without actually saying that.**

 **Anyway this story will be much less action-centric and will be more drawn out. Don't get me wrong, there are some** _ **epic**_ **fights planned for later… but unlike Edge of Life this story won't quite be so fast paced. Things will develop slowly… characters will face hardships beyond what canon offered, good and evil will be ignored once again in favour of blinding shades of gray.**

 **Basically all the things you could expect from anything I write.**

 **Speaking of things I write, go check out Wraith! While that story is... unrelated** **…** **(cough) to this and Edge of Life I still hope that people can find enjoyment out of it.**

 **Shameless self-promotion aside, please leave a review!**


	2. From Ashes, Born Again

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Two

From Ashes, Born Again

Jaune awoke in searing pain.

He was lying flat on his back, with his face turned upwards to the sky. Despite the agony he felt across his ruined body, Jaune couldn't help but marvel at the sunlight that filtered downwards through the red trees that surrounded him.

He remembered… drifting… floating in endless darkness of absolute nothingness. The fight with Cinder… had he won? It all felt like so long ago… like the memories were coming across a great distance. How long had he been in that void? his head ached terribly when he tried to remember… there was flashes of lives not his own… blurry images of a blond boy with blue eyes and fragments of worlds he never knew. But his mind hurt so terribly when he tried to remember those false things, how did he get like this? He had fought Cinder… the rain had blasted down as they tore the city apart in a frenzy to kill each other. Who had won that fight? He could hardly recall… but slowly the memories came back to him, the events that seemed like eons ago.

He _did_ win, he blasted her from behind… then he killed himself? That sounded about right, but… if he killed himself, then how was he alive? His mind may be slightly muddled, but he knew that dead people weren't meant to be lying in the middle of a forest, with absolutely no idea what was going on. Maybe this was the afterlife? Apart from the terrible pain he was feeling it seemed like a pretty chill affair, the trees were a nice red shade and somewhere nearby he could hear a bird chirping away like an idiot.

Pain speared to the forefront of his mind, reminding him that despite his currently confused status of dead or not, his body still had issues.

It was pain that drove him to look downwards towards his leg. He knew the other had been removed by Cinder, so he was only expecting one. So it was with a mixture of disgust and surprise that he saw two legs, one bare and exposed to the world as the armour had long since broken off.

His left leg, however… even he could admit that was disgusting.

Jaune had known that the regenerative effect of the Director's 'upgrade' would be staggering; thousands of tiny machines flooding his blood, working tirelessly to repair any damage he might sustain… including the loss of a limb, apparently.

Sticking out of the bloody stump where his right leg used to be was a long, skeletal piece of metal that was his new limb. His entire lower half was sitting in a pool of deep crimson blood, the red liquid tearing away at what remained of his armour and repurposing the metal into recreating his lost leg.

It looked like something out of a horror movie, the still weak metal bones glinting in the light as he was being rebuilt.

But it wasn't even close to being completed; the new limb was a mess of searing pain, and was extremely frail. Jaune dared to move it an inch, but within seconds the agony became too great and he lay still once more.

For hours Jaune lay still, his mismatched eyes staring at everything he could. Diagnostics flooded his mind every few minutes, a long list of terrible wounds he had suffered from the beating Cinder gave him.

Even now, his metal spinal column was only held together by the diligent work of the nanites, his eyes half-blind from when he had crashed back into Remnant after the brief exposure to space. The gaping hole in his chest where that bitch had tore him open… fuck that hurt.

But despite all the agony… despite all the heartache he felt... it was _good_ to be alive.

But as darkness slowly descended, Jaune grew concerned. He was dead, but he was still alive. That could mean that there were Grimm lurking about… or worse, Cinder.

If he was in the afterlife then so was she, and while he would relish the chance to kill her again he doubted he could battle a mosquito right now… let alone a titan of power and skill like Ashlynn Ember.

This suspicion was only confirmed when he started distantly hearing bushes rustling, and curses being uttered. Someone was coming.

Jaune was in no state to fight anyone; he was far too weakened to fight even the weakest of hunters, let alone anyone actually skilled.

So it was with supreme effort that Jaune dragged himself out of his bloody puddle. Agony broke out across his body, but the calming devices lodged inside his brain by the upgrade kept him from screaming out in agony. His legs were too weak to do much, his spine still too fragile to offer anything more than rudimentary control of his legs.

Maybe he could wriggle his new metal toes at whoever was coming, that might scare them off...

The sounds of someone coming drew ever closer, and Jaune bit back a cry of pain as he pulled himself up a tree and settled onto the sturdiest-looking branch he could find.

Suddenly, a man burst into the clearing. He had black hair with grey streaks, and sharp red eyes. A massive scythe was held at the ready, as the surprisingly well-dressed man surveyed the clearing as if it contained a bomb. Finally, his dangerous red eyes settled on the deep pool of blood that Jaune had been lying in.

"What have we here?" the man muttered to himself, unaware that he was being watched. "Looks like someone has been having a rough time…"

Jaune knew this man, he realised. Ruby had babbled on about him and his utter 'greatness' more than enough… and they had met personally, on the highways of Vale… where Jaune had just murdered three young huntsmen. And electrocuted him… and punched him a lot… and nearly killed him...

This man was Qrow Branwen.

Jaune hardly dared to breathe for a few moments, before realising that he could hold his breath for a couple of hours. He promptly stopped breathing, and just watched the powerful hunter as he examined the pool of blood.

Qrow inspected the blood, his crimson eyes roving across the red liquid and his mind working furiously to solve the riddle before him. As the minutes ticked by, Qrow eventually sighed and pulled out his scroll, quickly dialling in a number and waiting for whoever he was calling to pick up.

The scroll hardly rang once before the call connected, and when the voice on the other side answered, Jaune nearly fell out of the tree in shock. His enhanced ears must be tricking him, the calm and collected voice on the other side sent a deep shiver down his spine.

It was Ozpin.

The man, who if Jaune's memory was right, should be very _dead_ right now.

"Yes, Qrow?" The far distant headmaster asked, unaware that Jaune was now freaking the hell out. "Have you found something? Someone?"

Qrow, for reasons that baffled Jaune, seemed utterly at ease talking to the dead man. "Nobody is here, but there's a lot of blood. Enough to bleed a person dry."

"Hmm… gather a few samples of the blood then return to Beacon, we can run further tests here."

"Yeah… okay."

 _The nanites,_ Jaune realised. If they got even a drop of that blood, then they'd have access to _millions_ of the tiny machines that flooded through his body. Not only that, but they'd have access to some of the most advanced technology on Remnant…

But that did raise a good question, where the hell was he? Could this place be Remnant? Jaune recognized the trees around him as those that only grew in Forever Fall… but why would he be there? Before Jaune was in the crushing darkness, he had been at Beacon… and Ozpin had been dead, killed by his former wife.

Had… had he been sent to the past? Some kind of alternate dimension? The self-destruct wasn't exactly designed like a normal bomb, but surely that was a little much? He needed more information.

Soon enough, Qrow left the clearing with several vials of Jaune's blood on his person.

As soon as the huntsman was far enough away, Jaune let himself fall out of the tree; it wasn't a very graceful landing. When he hit the ground, unimaginable pain shot through his still-fragile spine and leg; Jaune had to stuff his fingers in his mouth to stop himself from screaming out in agony.

As he lay still, he contemplated his situation. He had no idea what was going on, people that were dead were sounding rather lively… he was an absolute physical wreck, and would be for _months_ unless he had the right equipment.

 _Just once, I wish things would all go right for me…_

He needed more information. If only he still had a scroll, that way he could connect to the internet and- huh.

A web browser opened in his mind.

Of all the stupid enhancements that the Director's upgrade gave him… this was probably the funniest, and sadly the most practical.

He could connect to the internet with his _mind_.

That… words couldn't describe what exactly Jaune felt just then; is this why Kira was always so much better at general knowledge? Because she could connect to the internet at any time and location?

Well… at least that was one mystery solved. Even if it was an old one.

Jaune quickly started searching through local news webpages. There was no mention of any kind of battle at Beacon. No mention of Cinder at all actually…

Holy shit.

The date was messed up… it was off by months! If it was right, then he was stuck about two weeks before he joined Beacon! He could change so much; kill Roman properly the first time, stop himself from joining Beacon… spare Ruby and the others the pain from ever having met him.

The elation that had spread through him quickly died the further he went back in the news stories. Everything was wrong. There was no Vacuo Massacre… no Fort Independence… no Day of Black Sun…

The only major point in history he could identify was the Faunus Wars, and they were over eighty years ago…

Just where had he been sent? Did a Jaune Arc even exist in this timeline? Everything was so wrong; the Arc family still existed, but they were far away.

What was he going to do?

He wasn't of this world. He had no ID, no reason for living… at least when Rose had come back, she had a purpose… he had nothing.

Despair clouded his mind; his whole life was gone.

But then, it occurred to Jaune. _His whole life was gone._

None of his terrible sins, none of the atrocities that he had committed, none of the people he had killed… none of that happened. He was _free_.

No history, no past. He could be anyone, anything he wanted. Anything at all. And no one would care, because he wasn't important.

Never before had such absolute freedom been possible for Jaune. During his time as Subject 13, he had been a slave in every sense of the word. As Argentum Mortem, he had thought he was free… but he was just binding himself in chains forged in the suffering he caused others. As the Lonely Wanderer, he had been tormented by all his misdeeds; all the terrible things he had ever done, forced onto the morals of an 8-year-old child. As Solus Superstes, he had been a shallow and broken husk of a person, the ruined potential of a man that could have been so much more…

But now, he was _free_.

But… there was one thing tying him down. Cinder.

No doubt she existed in this timeline too, in some form or another at least. Jaune may have been an immoral prick, but he would never let anyone suffer under the evils that she would inflict on the world.

And there was the matter of his blood. Obviously, Qrow and Ozpin knew that someone had been here. If they managed to get a closer look at that blood and what was in it… that might throw the world into a war over the technology.

He couldn't let that happen; he wouldn't allow more people to die for him.

Because he was an _Arc_.

And Arcs were better than that.

* * *

Jaune had been dragging himself along the ground for days, searing agony tearing across his back and leg with each movement. But he wouldn't be stopped, he had to stop Qrow… he had to get out of the forest.

Skin and muscle had grown over the metallic bones of his new leg; the limb was still incredibly fragile, and could be broken with just the lightest of wrong movements. His broken body screamed for him to rest, but Jaune was on a mission and nothing would stop him.

He was so lost in his utter determination to get out of the forest, that Jaune hardly noticed the small, stone structure until his hands scraped unyielding stone and not dirt.

Jaune's mismatched eyes narrowed on the small, grey building when he finally took notice of it, his mind working a mile a minute to determine what exactly it was.

But the answer came to him soon enough with the worn inscription on the sealed doorway… this was a tomb.

That could only mean that a hunter was buried here. Civilians were only allowed a cremation so the Kingdoms weren't filled with cemeteries, but hunters were allowed the honour of a burial, as a final gift to them in light of their service.

But what hunter would be buried in the middle of Forever Fall? All Valean hunters were entombed in a giant mausoleum that ran underneath the city. Atlasian hunters were entombed in the mountain that shadowed the city. Mistrali hunters buried in the smattering of holy temples that dotted the continent. The hunters of Vacuo were buried by the sands that surrounded them, no markers for their bodies or anything.

All the ones that still had a body to bury, that was.

Regardless of that, this was an incredible opportunity. Hunters were typically buried with their weapons, so they'd have something to protect themselves with in the afterlife. The tombs were also constructed to be nigh-impenetrable, unless you had several skilled aura users to open the door.

But Jaune didn't need the help; he had enough aura to do this alone, thanks to the amplifiers that riddled his body.

He needed a weapon, hopefully one that could help him walk, or at least move a little faster. He would pay his respects to the hunter… then he would steal whatever his weapon was. He had never been grave robbing before, it would hardly be the worst thing he had ever done during his life… but it was still distasteful, even for him.

Jaune sighed, it had to be done. For the betterment of everyone.

His aura shot outwards, and the door rattled open as the locking mechanisms shifted the giant slab of stone.

Stale air circulated the dead space within, a lingering odour of decay and the odd lack of anything living. But the darkness within didn't stop the grave robber. Jaune's eyes had been replaced, alongside practically everything else in the upgrade procedure; and as such, he could see in the dark just as well as he could in the light.

It wasn't very big on the inside, just a narrow staircase downwards that led to a single upraised platform, with a stone coffin that no doubt held a dusty skeleton within.

Jaune crawled closer to the coffin; as he drew near, he began to make out the extremely faded and worn inscription. Parts of it were missing, worn away by time. But Jaune could still make out some of it.

The stone read:

 _This is the final ******* place of Tim Alex ***. He spent his **** at war, lost in his own **** and pain. He fought against family and ******* to do what he thought was right, but they didn't care; they saw him as a traitor and a *******._

 _He made many mistakes during his life, fighting a war that took his soul only to end up on the losing side. The world came to know him as The *** that Sold *** *****. This is not true. In the end, he *** the right *****. Tim's final redemption came at the *** of his ****, and for his suffering he will now carry the fam*** blade of Atra Mors in death, just as he *** in life._

Jaune's mouth hung open in utter shock and surprise. He knew whose grave this was… he knew what this man had been.

This was the tomb of Tim Alex _Arc_.

Ignoring the painful stab in his mind, Jaune remembered...

The disgraced family member that had fought in the Faunus wars on the side of the humans, unlike the rest of the family that had fought with the Faunus. This was the elder brother of the now-legendary Julius Arc that had ended the war…

This was the pariah of the Arc family; every Arc child grew up hearing stories of how Tim had been an evil and vile man that had fought with the humans because he had been bribed to do so…

Humans in general held the man in high esteem, a paragon of virtue and justice against the unruly Faunus. But no one knew what happened to the man, after the war ended in a truce he just vanished. And with him, Tim took one of the two Arc family swords… Atra Mors.

Atra Mors, the sword of three forms. The _Black Death_ blade that was always meant to be held by the hands of the eldest Arc son. The sword that had cut down even the mightiest of enemies, one of the first mecha-shift weapons.

The first form was a long Jian sword, not unlike Crocea Mors in appearance. The second form was a long chain whip that unfurled from the blade with ease. The final form however, was perfect for Jaune's current needs; it was a cane with an extremely sturdy T-shape to it.

And Jaune was about to steal from him. The opportunity that this presented was beyond perfect; this gave Jaune the chance to redeem both himself, _and_ his ancestor.

Jaune had been worried that he would have to abandon his name… he hardly cared about being called Jaune, but he had finally come to terms with being an Arc, and he didn't want to lose that. It would be like becoming a slave to the Director all over again, losing himself into a new and worthless name that just _wasn't_ him.

But now… he could become Tim Alexander Arc. Take Atra Mors and return to society…

It would only be the work of hours to change his appearance to match what Tim would look like. Along with all the other attributes the upgrade gave him came a certain degree of… control over what he looked like.

Some things were unchangeable, like his gender, the colour of his red eye and his relative size. But the rest? That was fair game. He could even remove his scars if he wanted… but Jaune wouldn't do that, his scars were a sign that he was a survivor, that he had withstood all that life could throw at him.

How old would Tim be, if he were still alive? 130? 140? Extremely old, but Jaune could make it work. His hair would need to be longer, around shoulder length with a few grey streaks mixed in. A beard would also be in order, neatly trimmed of course. Wrinkles would need to line his face, but that was okay. _Besides, it's not like I can get much uglier,_ Jaune couldn't help but think wryly as he implemented the changes.

It would take days, but soon he would become Tim Arc.

 **A/N**

 **Now before you all start trying to stone me because I made him change his name, please think about it. Jaune is in the canon universe, which already contains a Jaune Arc. I think we all know that they are gonna meet at some point, and that would be** _ **way**_ **too confusing if they were both called Jaune. At least this way he is still an Arc, and as an added bonus he is an Arc that people will recognize from name but not face.**

 **I need to stress just how unbelievably lucky this was for** _ **Tim**_ **to find the tomb, his luck usually just runs out after him being able to breathe; let alone find something like finding his ancestor's tomb by sheer accident.**

 **Oh and I would be absolutely delighted if anyone could point out the MAJOR plot arc that began in this chapter. It has nothing to do with Qrow or the blood, something about Jaune.**

 **That aside let's look at the reviews:**

 **Guest** **:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Emotional rollercoaster indeed! Prepare yourself for some more of my usual painful writing style and even more emotional turmoil and confusion that the original! Seriously though, thanks for your kind words.**

 **Smithrooks:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **And so it starts again.**

 **I liked the idea of showing all the major parties at the beginning, I feel that it gave a strong opening that, like you said, keeps everyone in the back of the reader's mind.**

 **And yeah, I had a little chuckle when I wrote Rose punting Kira through the portal. It was done to show the building camaraderie as well as to serve as a light taste for the more light-hearted moments that are down the road for this story.**

 **Nik41:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **I'm back! It's great to hear from you again.**

 **It's time for Jaune to really get into his groove, ruin people's shit, generally cause some chaos. You know, all the fun stuff haha.**

 **gusbot3000:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Jaune will be using an alias, but like in the final battle with Cinder his names will be used interchangeably. But Jaune will be the secondary title. There will be a struggle later... but you'll have to wait and see.**

 **Lord Of Greed 90:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah I can understand life getting in the way sometimes, so don't worry.**

 **I can't wait to hear from you in later reviews.**

 **Leysa907** **:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **The Edge of Life Jaune is your favorite? Thank you! I try my hardest.**

 **I have taken notice of you, I look forward to hearing from you again.**

 **Da Etan:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah, sneaky is my M.O, I like leaving subtle hints about later plot points. Like what I did in this chapter.**

 **Yeah I admit the first couple chapters for the original are kinda eh, but I improved greatly as a writer over the course of that story - that and I incorporated more RvB references.**

 **FieryBreakingPoint:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah pretty much. At this very moment it's the canon universe for all intents and purposes, bar the very slight alteration of Ozpin knowing about portal storms - which can be explained as just another story he's heard, like the Maidens. The Arc family never died, fort Independence never happened, the reactor never went off, Cinder isn't 100+ years old (Probably) and all that.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Technology is one of the few areas that Jaune is extremely skilled at. In nearly every other aspect of his life he is sort of a Jack-of-all-trades kind of guy, including fighting. His command over technology was only furthered by the aid of his AI as well, although he left the AI in his home universe.**

 **Regarding the issues about the upgrade… you'll see.**

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading, and please remember to leave a review.**


	3. Leaves of Autumn

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Three

Beta: Smithrooks

Leaves of Autumn

With the aid of Atra Mors in its cane form, Jaune, or Tim as it were, had begun to walk. How wonderful it had felt to stand under his own power, the pure elation he had experienced as the cane had helped support him. The ancient tool of the Arc family was once again in use, and not just gathering dust in a musty old tomb.

Jaune still missed Crocea Mors terribly; that blade had been with him through all his greatest struggles in life. Theoretically he could get the sword back, the internet did reveal that the Arc family existed in this place… although oddly enough, there was no mention of any Violet Arc. But to regain the sword he would have to steal from his own family, which left a bitter taste in his mouth.

That raised another interesting possibility though. What if there was another Jaune? Would he be like him? Or would he be totally different? Would he still be a fighter? Would he know his parents? Could… could he meet himself…?

So many possibilities… so many chances. Tim hadn't realised it before, but this place was something many people would absolutely _kill_ for; a complete second chance. No history or personal past to weigh down how the world saw him… but Jaune had made his choice. He would be Tim Arc.

It had been nearly two days since he had found the tomb and his family blade, two days of painfully slow walking in the silence afforded by the red forest around him.

His transformation into what Tim Alex Arc should look like was practically complete. His hair now hung about his shoulders limply, with a healthy amount of grey peppered amongst the blonde. A short and neat beard decorated his chin, obscuring some of the scars than ran along his jawline. Deep wrinkles lined his face, only broken apart by the scars that littered his once-boyish features.

All in all, he looked _old_.

His leg and back were still incredibly fragile, so Tim was forced to hobble along at a crawling pace that a toddler could have outdone. Jaune's already tatty pride had taken a beating when he was unable to walk with his back straight, being forced to stoop downwards lest he accidentally snap his spine in half once again.

He had exited Forever Fall about a day ago, the red leaves slowly fading to more mundane-looking green trees that dotted the hilly landscape around him; a long, winding dirt road was all he had as a guide, the dirt so compacted that it might as well be stone.

Each step he took sent jarring agony across his body, his frail leg and back paining him to no end. But despite the pain Tim was still aware of his surroundings, and he heard the gentle clip-clop of a horse long before any such beast came into view.

The white horse and its rider were heading the same direction as him, and came up from behind. The green-cloaked woman pulled her horse up alongside him, and looked down on his seemingly frail form. "Hello there!" she cried, her voice youthful and vigorous. "Are you heading into Vale? Perhaps we are going the same way."

Her eyes widened slightly upon seeing his scared face and mismatched eyes, but she obviously had some degree of tact since she didn't comment.

Jaune looked at her; slightly darker skin and warm, if slightly concerned-looking brown eyes could be seen underneath her hood. "I'm heading into Vale," Tim affirmed, slightly unsure why the woman looked concerned. "Although I doubt you want to travel with me; I have grown rather slow in my old age."

She smiled, a kind look that Jaune was so unused to seeing. "That doesn't matter, I have time enough to spare to guide you into the city." Her warm chocolate eyes conveyed only concern for him. How odd. "Are you okay? Your clothes are torn to ribbons."

Tim looked down at himself. He hadn't noticed until she had pointed it out, but she was right. The hoodie and jeans that he had worn under his armour when he fought Cinder were now little more than rags. "I… have been away from society for some time," Tim said, his gravelly voice making him sound as old as he was acting. "The Grimm weren't kind enough to spare my outfit, sadly."

She looked visibly surprised, her brown eyes widening slightly. "You're a hunter?" The unspoken statement was that she had never met a hunter as old as he appeared to be.

Tim grinned. He may have hated the Director with a burning passion, but he was loving the calming effect the numerous devices in his brain had; it made carrying a conversation so much easier without errant emotions tumbling through his mind. "I was a hunter a very long time ago, but I suppose you could say that I was forced to retire."

The girl unclipped her forest-green cloak from around her shoulders and offered it to him, "I see. Well if Grimm haven't gotten you, then we can't let the cold have a try either. Take my cloak."

Tim accepted the gift without protest. He knew her type; self-proclaimed heroes that only lived through others. "Thank you." The words felt alien on his tongue, but at the same time it was a slightly novel experience.

She smiled as he threw the cape and hood over his shoulders, instantly feeling warmer than he had been moments ago. "My name is Amber Autumn, what's yours?"

Jaune nodded; he had never heard of her before. She was probably just a run-of-the-mill huntress. "I'm Tim," he said simply, not saying his last name.

"Tim, huh? No last name?"

Jaune glanced at her, his weak and small steps being matched by the extremely slow pace of her horse. "Well, I could tell you my last name," he replied, a slightly amused tone entering his voice, "but that would ruin half the fun. Guess."

She grinned, obviously enjoying herself. "Should I know you? I don't recognize you."

Tim snorted, "I doubt you would. But if you haven't heard my name, then I have to wonder what is being taught in school these days."

"Oh I don't know, tell me."

"I'm not that easy, girl." Tim chuckled despite himself; this felt like the first time he had spoken to someone in decades. "I fought in the Faunus Wars, if that helps."

Amber nearly fell off her horse, her eyes widening in surprise. "You fought in the Faunus Wars? That was eighty years ago!"

"I am _very_ old."

She scrunched her brows together in thought, her mind trying to make the mental connections. "Tim… Tim… you wouldn't happen to be Tim _Arc_ , would you?"

Jaune barked out a sharp laugh. "Right in one!"

"B-but you're meant to be dead…" she looked slightly pale, shock colouring her features, "how could you be alive? Julius Arc defeated you and ended the war…"

Jaune sighed. Time to act old and remorseful. "He defeated me, my brother didn't kill me."

"But how are you still alive? You'd be like 130, wouldn't you? And where have you been for the past eighty years?"

Tim nodded; he had to act the part of a bitter old man. "I'm old, but I'm not too weak to fight. As for where I was… well I spent some time soul-searching."

"For _eighty years_?" she questioned, not quite believing what she was hearing.

Tim nodded, his mismatched eyes glinting mischievously, "I may have taken a nap as well, I can't quite remember."

She just nodded dumbly, not realising that Jaune was messing with her.

Tim smiled weakly. He felt… light, for the first time in years.

* * *

"Back!" Cinder hissed as she stopped her green-haired minion from carrying out her previous orders. "Don't move, make no noise."

The two servants under her command shared a glance; not sure what to make of their leader's orders, but still too afraid of her to question it.

Cinder's mind burned, the utterly alien presence of her master burning into her thoughts. "Cinder…"

The image of the deathly pale woman with red eyes seared across her mind, making Cinder's muscles lock slightly. "Stop… let it play out…"

What? Let it play out? What could have possibly changed so much that Salem would contact her to stop Cinder from stealing the power of the Maiden? Sure, the plan was originally to catch her alone, but one frail-looking old man hardly posed enough of a threat to make Salem change the plan.

"Do nothing," her master commanded from her domain. "That is no simple old man. That is the being from the void…"

What?! Surely that wasn't possible! Cinder had expected some eldritch abomination, not a frail man that could hardly walk.

"It is him… do _not_ engage. Observe for now." Never before had Cinder heard her master sound so… adamant about anything. Just who was this old man?

Slowly, Cinder reached out with her aura, taking great pains to do so subtly in case the man could sense aura. It felt… old. Alien, almost unnatural, like whatever it used to be had been stretched beyond human limits. Dark and light mingled almost evenly throughout the soul; ancient power charred and split in ways that spoke of great darkness in the past, yet the light soothed the rough edges and calmed the maelstrom of emotions.

But above all that, it felt… cold. Like it didn't belong.

Who was he? What the hell was wrong with his aura?

"B-boss…" Mercury hissed quietly, his face far paler than usual. "Did you hear what he just said his name was?"

Normally, Cinder would reprimand the young assassin for defying a direct order, but she had been too engrossed in studying the man's aura to hear what he and the Maiden were talking about. Obviously the information was important enough that Mercury thought she needed to know straight away… "What?" she questioned as quietly as humanly possible, "what's his name?"

Mercury looked like he'd seen a ghost; it was clearly shocking or deeply important.

"Tim Arc," The boy hissed, his eyes locked on the travellers as they walked the dirt road to Vale.

Tim Arc! That… that shouldn't be possible! He died years ago! Defeated at the closing of the Faunus Wars by his younger brother Julius Arc. That was 80 years ago, the man couldn't still be alive… oh.

Cinder couldn't help but grimace. That really was Tim Arc. Just not _their_ Tim Arc.

Salem had explained the void to Cinder when she had first come into her service. A massive, gaping space of nothingness that existed between different realities of existence, each world existing on their own in little pockets of space that was their dimension. Each held a world of Remnant; some so alike that lifetimes could be spent trying to find a difference, some so dramatically contrasting that it was utterly impossible to tell where things diverged…

This _Tim Arc_ must be from one of these different realities, one where he survived the end of the Faunus Wars and struck down his brother, instead of it being the other way around!

The information was something of a double-edged sword however. It was extremely comforting to know what exactly the anomalous presence was, but Tim Arc had been known as the single most powerful hunter of his generation. There had been so many stories about the man during the war; his power, his own private army, his disturbing lack of morals for an Arc… Cinder didn't dare stand against the man without the power of a Maiden on her side.

He didn't exactly cut an imposing figure anymore, with a deeply stooped back and a hobbling walk that a toddler could outpace. But Cinder knew well enough to listen to history; in his prime, Tim had been known for defeating full teams of fully-trained hunters with minimal effort. Rumour also had it that the man had ventured into the fallen lands _alone_ and survived.

His power may have waned with age, but Cinder still wouldn't test it; that man was dangerous, regardless of how old he was.

But this offered so much opportunity as well. Tim had always been on the greedy and conceited side. So sure of his own power, and desire for wealth and greatness that his moral compass had taken a backstage to his ambition. If she could tempt him in some way… if she could turn him to their side they would gain an extremely powerful ally, someone who could likely match even Ozpin in terms of raw skill and ability.

"So are we doing this or not?" Emerald questioned near-silently, obviously not having any understanding of just who they were looking at.

"Are you crazy? He'd kill us without even breaking a sweat," Mercury hissed back, obviously deathly afraid of meeting one such as Tim Arc in battle.

Smart boy.

"We do nothing," Cinder whispered, "that is not a fight we can win. For now, we just observe."

Both teens nodded, Mercury clearly relieved that he didn't have to fight Tim, and Emerald not really understanding but still following orders.

Cinder stared at the wizened form of one of the most infamous men during the war. This could change things… no, this _would_ change things.

 **A/N**

 **My chapters are getting shorter, I know. But there are two good reasons for this! The first being that I have twice the work load now, what with having two stories going at once. The second being that I feel like it should end here… don't worry, not all the chapters are going to be this length; later on when the plot is much more fleshed out the chapters will be getting longer due to the nature of the content.**

 **Also a lot of you are probably wondering where Rose and Kira are. This is… tricky to explain, just think about how Salem explained Jaune to Cinder. That is the least spoiler-y answer I can give.**

 **All that aside let's take a look at the reviews shall we?**

 **hirshja:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **No, but his nickname is the same my favorite David Bowie song.**

 **gusbot3000:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **I try haha.**

 **Catching Qrow in time is going to be… tricky at best, impossible at worst.**

 **Funny thing about Atra Mors, it's inclusion now means there is one of each of the three basic types of cane: Atra Mors is T-shaped, Melodic Cudgel is a hook and Ozpin's is a ball cane. Who knows, maybe they can become cane buddies.**

 **Nik41:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Thank you! I try.**

 **thelastcenturion2015:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah, he's come a long way from when he was first introduced in chapter one of Edge of Life. He hasn't forgiven himself for the things he's done, but he has accepted who he is and his own past.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **The concept of the 'fallen Arc' is actually an interesting one, it's totally subjective and could either apply to Jaune or Tim. But both have their reasons for doing what they do, sort of like the White Fang in that regard.**

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please remember to leave a review!**


	4. City of Ashes

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Four

Beta: Smithrooks

City of Ashes

Vale.

Tim stared at the glittering jewel of a city. The sunlight shone downwards and made the many buildings look almost pristine… but he knew better. Vale was a city where the cunning thrived and lived in the glittering towers of steel, all the while the weak of body and mind died a slow and drawn out death in the slums of the city.

Jaune grinned. _Home, sweet home._

It looked exactly like it had before his battle with Cinder; the false riches, people with sticks so far up their arses they might as well be chewing wood… the very best humanity has to offer.

"I suppose it's been awhile since you've been to one of the kingdoms, hasn't it?" Amber asked, faint amusement colouring her voice as she sat upon her horse beside him.

Tim chuckled bitterly, nostalgia rising up in his chest, "The last time I saw Vale, most of the city was in ruins and the rest was on fire." Not untrue, even for his alias.

"The world is at peace now General Arc." Jaune scowled, she had been calling him that since she had gotten over the shock of his name. "Vale is better than ever before."

Tim scoffed as he slowly made his way down the hill and towards the main gates of the city, the cane form of Atra Mors being the only thing that allowed him to walk. "The world will only ever be at peace when the Grimm are gone, until that time mankind will always be at war."

Amber nodded her head slowly from atop her trusty white horse, "I suppose that's true, but mankind has come so far since the Faunus Wars."

They were allowed into the city with little fuss, but almost as soon as they entered they were greeted with the sight of two young human boys taunting and insulting a young faunus girl.

Amber scowled fiercely, while Tim only sighed. "Two steps backwards for every step forwards, I see."

They came to a stop at an intersection and turned to face one another. "I think it is time for us to part ways," Tim said as he faced the much younger looking huntress. "It has been… interesting."

Amber smiled kindly at him and hopped off her horse, the beast letting out a huff as she did so. "It was nice meeting you, General," she only smiled wider at his scowl, "maybe we'll meet again sometime."

He nodded and the duo went their separate ways, Amber going off to do whatever she was in Vale for while he made his way to the nearest ATM so he could steal some money.

What? He was hungry.

Upon finding the nearest ATM he quickly checked to ensure that no one was watching, then with one quick movement jammed his fist into the receptacle. Metal and plastic bent easily under his impressive strength, and within moments he was hobbling away from the scene with a few hundred Lien clutched in his hands.

Only moments later he was sitting in a diner in downtown Vale, stuffing his face with food paid for with the stolen money; a few of the patrons gave him odd looks but he ignored it. They were probably wondering why such an old-looking man was eating so much, and why his forest-green cloak was wrapped so tightly around his frame.

But his peace and quiet was shattered when he felt a tug on his sleeve; a quick glance revealed it to be a youngish-looking girl around the age of 4 or 5.

"You're really wrinkly, that must mean you're old!" she announced as if it was a great revelation and she should be praised for working it out.

 _This girl would be a better detective than most hunters..._

Jaune stared at her, the little slip of a thing staring back just as hard.

"Yes," Tim responded once he felt the silence begin to grow uncomfortable, "very observant of you, little one."

The little girl plopped herself down onto the seat next to him, not caring in the slightest that he was a stranger. "How old are you?" she asked, chocolate brown eyes trying to see under his hood.

"Very."

Despite the short reply she just nodded her head, brown hair bobbing along with the motion. "I don't see many hunters as old as you."

Now that made him raise an eyebrow, why did she think he was a hunter? Technically he _was_ , but it's not like he was going around and telling everyone. "And what makes you think I'm a hunter, little one?"

"My big sister and mommy are huntresses!" she declared proudly, "they showed me how to tell if something is a weapon," she pointed to Atra Mors, which was in its cane form leaning against the table, "that is a weapon."

He looked at the little girl; she was a clever one if she noticed that. Brave, foolish and clever all mixed into one. She could make a good huntress one day if she kept that attitude. "And where are your mother and sister?" he asked, quickly tiring of the inane conversation. "I doubt they would let you wander alone."

She paused at that, her face betraying a brief flash of guilt. "I ran away," she blurted out quickly, her eyes showing only slight defiance. "My sister is going to Beacon again this year and I wanted to go with her!"

Now that was funny. This little girl at Beacon? Maybe in a decade she could, but for now she was just a child. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he said slowly, containing his thinly veiled amusement. "But this," he gestured to the diner around them, "isn't Beacon. So why are you here?"

She actually paused at that, looking a little sheepish and slightly hopeful at the same time. "When I saw you I was kinda… sort of… maybe hoping you would help me get there? I don't know the way."

Tim sighed; he had better things to do than this. Capture Qrow... who was probably already in Beacon. He would have to sneak in during the dead of night and steal the blood sample; not impossible, but not pleasant.

He'd have to ensure he avoided Ozpin...

But this little girl would have to go home. As much as he disliked the idea of being relegated to a glorified babysitter, he couldn't just leave her. "Sure," He lied, fully intending to drag the girl back to her house as soon as she gave him an address. "But to become a student of Beacon, you're going to need to pack some stuff won't you?"

She seemed to buy it, nodding her head and scrunching her brow as she thought it out, "I guess… but that means I'll have to go home first. What if my sister tries to stop me?"

"Don't worry," he lied smoothly, just wanting to get this over with. "I can keep her distracted."

She seemed hesitant at first, but within a few moments the girl nodded and stood up. "I guess you're right. C'mon, I'll show you the way to my house!"

She tried to race off, but quick as a flash his left arm snapped out and caught her by the shoulder. "Slowly girl, I can't move as fast as I used to."

She pulled an impatient expression but he didn't care, the little rotter could deal with it.

For nearly 20 minutes she tried to coax him to go faster as he hobbled along the sidewalk. But soon enough they came upon a relatively large house; it was a comfortable enough looking home, but certainly not something he'd like to live in.

Just as they reached the door, his free hand clamped down on the little girl's shoulder; not enough to hurt her, but enough to stop her from moving.

"Hey!" she cried as she struggled against his far superior strength, "What are you doing?!"

He smacked his cane against the door, just hard enough to serve as a knock.

The little girl continued to struggle even as the door opened to show a much older-looking woman with matching brown hair and chocolate-coloured eyes. "Hello?" she asked pleasantly, but as soon as her eyes landed on the younger girl in his grasp her expression hardened. "Honey Adel!" she cried, her voice turning thunderous, "You are in deep trouble young lady!"

Tim palmed her over to the angry woman, entirely pleased that he wasn't the focus of her ire. "Found this one in a nearby diner, she thought I could take her to Beacon."

The woman turned to him, her eyes still remaining hard but softening slightly. "I'm so sorry she bothered you," she turned to her daughter, "Go upstairs to your room right now miss."

Tim released his grip on the young girl's shoulder and allowed her to walk despondently into the house, no doubt towards her bedroom.

"I can't thank you enough for bringing her home, mister…?" The woman looked at him imploringly, waiting for him to answer.

"You can call me Tim," Jaune returned, trying to hurry this along so he could work out how to sneak into Beacon. "Now I'm afraid I really must be going…"

But she was having none of it, her voice cut over his like iron. "Nonsense, you did a good thing by bringing my daughter back. Tonight you can have dinner with us." It wasn't a request, even he could tell that much.

"I really should be going," he tried, ever grateful for the calming devices within his brain. "I-"

But she _really_ wasn't taking no for an answer. Her hand lashed out and grabbed his cloak, and she began to pull him out of the cold twilight air outside. "Come in and sit down."

Damn these hunter types and their bloody honour crap; sure he returned the girl to them, but that doesn't mean he wants to be near them.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable," the huntress said as she practically forced him into a sturdy wooden chair, "dinner will be ready soon."

 _Fuck you._

He didn't voice his thoughts, not entirely sure she wouldn't try to skewer him for the language. Hunters have weird standards after all.

"Coco!" she cried, her voice carrying through the entire house. "Come entertain our guest while I finish dinner!"

There was a muffled response that sounded vaguely affirmative, followed by the soft sounds of bare feet stepping across carpet. A second later an older teen stepped into the room, and Tim had to stop his jaw from dropping; she may be dressed differently, but he couldn't mistake the chocolate-coloured hair and brown eyes of Coco Adel.

The bitch with the _biggest fucking minigun_ on this side of the planet.

He had never actually met her in person in his own dimension, but everyone at Beacon had heard of her. She was the second year that wiped the floor with fourth years, and she did it with _style_.

"You're old," was the first thing she said to him, brown eyes pausing briefly on Atra Mors before trying to see his face underneath the hood.

"Your sister said the same thing," Tim snapped; it was like listening to a broken record. "I'm old and wrinkly. Trust me, I noticed."

She sat down across from him and crossed her legs, even as her mother left the room to go tend to the food. "Don't ever see hunters your age, the only really old hunter out there is Ozpin." She wasn't wrong, he supposed. "What's your name?"

Should he tell her? Nah, let her work it out herself. "Tim," he paused, trying to think up a good conversation topic. "You are a student of Beacon?" he questioned after a moment.

She nodded, "I start my second year there in a week." She flicked her hair behind her shoulder, a light smirk decorating her face. "Did you go there when you were young?"

Tim snorted, best to play the role of his false ancestor… "Hardly, I remember a time when Beacon was just a hill overlooking the city."

That seemed to catch her off guard. "But the school was established eighty years ago," she argued, "You can't be that old right? Only uber-powerful hunters live that long."

He stared at her, slightly insulted, but at the same time feeling a slight swell of pride at what she was implying. "I fought in the Faunus War, messy business."

She whistled, obviously impressed at what he was saying. "That was eighty years ago, and there was only one Tim back then with the power to live this long." The accusation hung in the air; she had obviously worked out his alias.

But he wasn't worried; his name may be dirt in some places of the world, but it was absolute gold in others. It was just a matter of seeing how it would be received by Coco… "Tim Arc," he muttered as he lowered his hood to show all the scars and his mismatched eyes, "at your service."

She stared at him, her eyes hard and wary, "My teammate is a faunus."

"And?" he retorted, not really caring either way. "Good for your teammate, but I don't really care."

She visibly relaxed, tension bleeding out of her frame. "I figured you'd be racist or something."

He leaned back into his chair, the unbearable ache in his back and leg not easing in the slightest as he tried to relax. "You figured wrong."

Before anything else could be said or done, the mother came back into the room with several plates of food balanced precariously along her arms. "Dinner's ready!" she called out, just loud enough for the youngest daughter to hear from upstairs.

 _Fuck my life…_

* * *

In a single blinding flash of purple Rose and Kira appeared, their faces slamming into snow as they lost their footing.

Both cursed and shot to their feet as they wrapped their clothes tighter around them, the bitter winds of the icy cold surroundings beginning to seep into their bones and skin.

"Where the hell are we!?" Kira demanded as she pushed her semblance outwards to stop snow falling on them.

Rose looked around, her steely silver-eyed gaze trying to find any landmark to identify where they had ended up. But there was nothing of note, just miles of snow and ice in every direction.

"Well at least we're not dead!" she cried out over the winds after a moment, lacking any other positive comments to make, "maybe Jaune ended up around here somewhere too?"

"Or maybe we came out in the wrong place?" Kira questioned, her clothes utterly unsuitable for the icy conditions around them.

The small holographic image of Jaune appeared, the green light showing it to be Delta - logic. "Wireless signal detected, connecting… I have identified our location."

Rose looked at the AI with an eyebrow raised, "Come on then, what is this icy shit hole?"

The image changed to Iota, his joy. "HA! Welcome to the Southern Frost Fangs!"

Ice and snow howled louder and colder as both girls just barely suppressed the scream of utter rage and frustration at that particular gem of information.

They were at the bottom of the goddamn world.

 **A/N**

 **So I have finally given you more information about Rose and Kira, the lovely ladies are alive and well… just stuck at what is practically the south pole. Why is this you ask? Well you'll just have to wait and see won't you?**

 **So Jaune meets Coco, and her OC little sister. And he does a good thing! I know it sounds crazy but he's not a** _ **complete**_ **bastard. You're probably wondering why he seems so chill about everything, why he isn't acting like he did through all of Edge of Life… well I have already given that answer; for all the benefits the upgrade gives, it still takes away so much more. He is still Jaune… but now he is only a pale reflection of what he could have been, a torn shadow of a man.**

 **But enough of that, let's take a look at the reviews:**

 **thelastcenturion2015:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.  
Re-read the end of chapter two and that should explain things.**

 **gusbot3000:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Stopping Cinder is a rather tricky prospect, at best he stalled her temporarily. And yeah, Qrow was nearby as per canon; there was just no particular need for him to show himself this time around.**

 **risedragon0009:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah, Tim is going to rip people to shreds if they do something he thinks is stupid. Particularly the alternate Jaune, it's going to be quite amusing to write.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Due to the nature of the world around them the population of Remnant would actually be very small compared to Earth. In my stories at least the total population (human and faunus) would be in the low millions, somewhere around 6 or 7 million.**

 **As for how powerful the actual Tim Arc was… well the short answer to that question is extremely. But bear in mind that reputation is a powerful thing, if you grew up hearing stories of something that had practically changed the course of history single handed then you would be right to be wary.**

 **Semblance's are sort of subjective, and their power mostly relies on how creative the user is. Kira is only so obscenely powerful because she has no moral issue with telekinetically turning someone's organs to past. Take Pyrrha for example, she could kill Solus in less than a second if she really wanted too. All it would take is her ripping his metal bones apart, or even before he got the upgrade she could just rip his pacemaker out of his chest. Like I said: it's all subjective.**

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and please remember to leave a review!**


	5. Ambition and Creativity

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Five

Beta: Smithrooks

Ambition and Creativity

There were a great many things that Jaune Arc hated in his life, so many things that the list seemed near endless compared to the very small amount of things he loved. But tonight, he added one more thing to the already too long list of hate: children.

That damn girl Honey, the one that had found him in the diner, she just wouldn't shut up. At first the meal had been slightly awkward, the younger girl obviously still sulky that he had lied to her and given her back to her mother. But then the little rotter got over it and started talking.

And talking, and talking, and talking…

By the time the meal was finished he was seriously contemplating whether or not he could kill her; that, or he could simply rip his own ears off. Either would work really, until his ears grew back anyway. But sadly his patience had won out, however barely.

He praised whatever gods existed that Coco had seen fit to remind her mother that he had other things to do and should probably be going; if he ever saw Coco again he swore he would buy her a chocolate bar or something, as a thank-you.

As it was now, he was just nearing the top of the cliff that Beacon sat on; it was the dead of the night, and he was ready to steal back the blood. There were probably easier ways to go about this, but in reality he was more interested in just getting it done as fast as possible. Maybe afterwards he'd get some money and buy a small house in Vale or something, or whatever else retired old men were meant to do.

Finally he pulled himself over the top of the cliff and rose to his feet, mismatched eyes glaring into the oppressive darkness to see if anyone was watching.

As quickly as he could Tim limped towards the main foyer of the school, it was where he could get the easiest access to school files and see if he was too late or not. While he was there he could also take a look at the student registry; see if Ruby, Blake and Yang were coming to Beacon or not.

He got to the door without any trouble, and even then he had to suppress a chuckle at the padlock on the door. Seriously, a padlock? Even to the weakest of hunters the flimsy metal would pose almost no challenge, but to him it might as well be a spider web locking the door.

Taking the lock in hand, he gave it a quick squeeze and it shattered into a thousand pieces. Perhaps the Ozpin of this world relied more on the honour system? If that was the case, then he was even dumber than he expected.

Tim pushed the doors open and hobbled towards the terminal on the far wall; when he got there, the screen flickered to life and asked for a username and password.

Pfft, who needs a username and password when you can cheat? Within moments, the security was broken and Jaune was peeling through the computer files of Beacon. If he had tried this before the upgrade he probably would have failed quite dramatically, but with his enhanced brain… well, it was rather lackluster now.

Ah, there it was. Professor Qrow Branwen came to the school several hours prior, and gave the medical staff a special package of an unspecified nature to be used for testing. All tests are to be conducted first thing in the morning by the head of the infirmary, Rendon Howe.

Right, so all he'd have to do is go to the infirmary and steal the blood. And if this Howe guy was still there, he'd just beat him over the head or something.

Before he shut off the terminal Tim switched over to the new students for the year, fully intent on seeing if the girls from his old team were there…

His eyes stopped and widened when he saw the first name on the list.

Jaune Arc.

Jaune Arc was going to Beacon.

The alternate version of him was going to Beacon. Tim suddenly found himself very curious as to what this other version of him would be like, the boy was everything that he could have been… had he not been robbed of the chance. Would he be a good fighter? Would he be close to his family? Would… would he hate Tim?

Tim didn't want that.

He wanted to meet Jaune.

Without even realising it, Tim had shut down the terminal and made his way towards the infirmary as he was thinking about his other self. Even as he pushed open the door to the medical ward, his mind wandered towards his alternate version; there was little else he wanted right at this very moment other than to meet himself.

The was a man in a white coat with his back turned to the doorway when Tim entered; the noise startled him and he spun around to see who had entered his medical ward. But his eyes never saw who exactly had entered, all he could see was a metal rod slam into his face before he fell unconscious.

Tim grinned slightly at the downed form of who he assumed to be Rendon Howe. Tim stepped over the slightly ugly man and idly searched through his desk. What useless garbage, how did the man ever get anything done in this chaos? This must have been the absolute epitome of disorganisation.

But still he kept searching, the damn blood had to be around here somewhere… where could it be…

But after nearly an hour he did find the vial of blood, the elusive red liquid held firmly in his grip as he stared at the thing that had spurred him to returning to Vale and Beacon. As soon as he stepped outside he was going to toss the damn thing off the cliff, let it cause trouble for someone else instead.

With blood in hand Tim crept out of Beacon, deftly destroying any security camera footage as he went and staying silent when he heard one of the night janitors pass nearby. As he was leaving the school, his mind wandered back to the other version of him once again, and all the possibilities…

The thought had occurred to him when he first came to realise his situation. That he could meet his family, the chance that presented to him… even with the full memory of his past restored by Cinder before the reactor in Vacuo, he still only had broken fragmented memories of his family; who ever remembers much of when they were 8 or younger?

His mother… he remembered her as Jane Arc, a kind woman that made the best pie in the village of Dorme. Long chocolate hair with kind blue-coloured eyes, and a warm smile that used to make him feel happy. His father, the mighty hunter that had used Crocea Mors, had shining blonde hair and deep, stormy grey eyes that seemed a thousand miles away sometimes… he had been firm, yet kind.

Tim could remember how they looked so clearly, each and every detail… but beyond that and a few idle facts like his mother's pie and his father's love of knock-knock jokes, there was nothing.

He didn't remember his sisters either; he didn't know what they looked like, but he suspected that they would be blonde. How many siblings could he actually have? At the time of the eclipse he'd only had two sisters, but his mother had been pregnant again. He remembered being so excited that he wouldn't be the baby of the family anymore, that he could be a big brother…

If he met his family now, would they hate him? He had done so many things that they'd always said were wrong and evil… would they accept him, or would they revile him? Maybe he could test it…

He would have to meet Jaune then, as a test to see how the other Arcs might react, but how? He couldn't exactly stroll into Beacon after it started for the year and steal the boy away. Briefly, the thought crossed his mind that he could become a student once again… but that was shot down pretty quickly. Screw being a student; ignoring that he wouldn't exactly be eligible given his current alias, he _really_ didn't want to. Last time he only joined Beacon because it was easy money compared to near starvation, but even with all the director's soothing devices in his brain he wasn't totally sure he could reign in his temper enough not to turn some of the students into a red paste.

Maybe he could become the school janitor or something? Imagine that, the famous war veteran Tim Arc as a school janitor. Somehow he didn't think that would work out. But he needed to be around Beacon _somehow_ , how could he do that? It wasn't like he could just become a professor-

Holy shit.

Professor Tim Arc.

He could do that! Back in his home dimension he'd overheard Goodwitch complaining to Ozpin that they needed more staff all the time, something about most hunters not wanting to spend their days teaching children despite the dire need for skilled trainers. If the same were true for this place, then they'd have to accept him!

He reached the edge of the cliffs around Beacon just as the thoughts raced through his head; with an idle flick of his wrist, he tossed the vial of blood over - thus ending that particular problem.

But already Tim's mind was away with the possibilities of becoming a professor at Beacon. Sure, he'd have to deal with all the bratty little children; but he'd get to see his team again, and meet Jaune.

Tim smiled weakly and began the downward climb away from Beacon. He'd have to get into contact with Ozpin tomorrow…

Hopefully the old man wouldn't realise who just broke into his school…

* * *

Tim had just walked into the 'hunter's lodge' in the city, a large building where all the hunters in Vale got their missions from a large board detailing current issues that required a hunter's attention. The lodge was also the place where hunters went to unwind away from the masses that either hated or loved them, such a picky bunch…

If he remembered correctly, then at the very bottom of the board there should be a file detailing a position as a combat instructor at Beacon, a file that would have been there for a couple years or more he suspected.

Ignoring the odd looks some of the surrounding hunters were giving him due to his limp and seemingly advanced age, Tim scrolled down the list of jobs until he came to the very bottom. There it was, a position as an instructor at Beacon teaching combat for the first and second year students - something no one had taken up and had been sitting idle for quite some time, despite the more than generous pay it offered.

Quickly skimming through the details, Tim agreed to the terms and conditions and listed down the number of his newly acquired scroll, paid for by breaking ATMs, and signed his name on the computerised board.

Now with that done he just had to wait for someone to get back to him on that, maybe he could go sit down and relax for an hour or two?

Hobbling into a different room, this one filled with couches and some relaxed looking hunters, Tim made his way over to the sturdiest looking chair and sat down. The cushion bent under his weight and Tim couldn't help but let out a sigh of contentment, it was very comfortable-

His scroll buzzed in his pocket.

Well that was a lovely five seconds of relaxation, he really must do that again some time.

He pulled out his scroll and answered the unknown number, a familiar feminine voice on the other side talking immediately, "Am I speaking to Tim Arc?"

Tim grinned; you could always rely on Goodwitch to be straight to the point. "You are," he replied, his voice deep and slightly rough. "Is this about my application to join the Beacon staff?" He already knew the answer to the question, but he had to ask anyway.

"Yes. My name is Glynda Goodwitch, when are you available for a meeting?" she asked, not beating around the bush at all.

"As soon as I can get to Beacon."

She paused on the other side, obviously thinking something through, "I can come and collect you?" she offered to his surprise.

He was honestly shocked that she had offered that, the frigid bitch had been very… distant to everyone back when he was at Beacon, even the teachers. Maybe it had something to do with his name? Maybe she was interested in meeting the infamous Tim Arc. Regardless, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Yes," he said with a thin grin on his face, "that would be good. I will await your arrival in the hunter's lodge."

"Very well, I will be there in ten minutes."

With that the call ended.

Now he just had to wait…

* * *

Professor Glynda Goodwitch was nervous.

Not an emotion she would ever show to anyone bar perhaps Ozpin, but the thought of having Tim Arc come to Beacon and be a professor… now that was something to get nervous about. She had heard of the man a lot during her youth, stories about his skill and strength… about how he was a general in the Faunus War.

But all reports indicated that he disappeared just after the end of the war, beaten by his younger brother and forced to flee to a fate unknown. When she had first heard of him she had been extremely interested, and if she was honest with herself perhaps she had been slightly enamoured by the stories about the man, despite the age difference between them.

But that had been years ago… he had disappeared long before her time. So imagine her surprise when she gets a message from the hunter's lodge saying that Tim Arc had applied to the teaching position in Beacon. She had nearly spat out her tea in shock; how old would he be now? 130? 140? And he was _still_ alive? And he could _still_ fight?

And he wanted to come to Beacon?

Now this she had to see.

After getting over her shock, she had promptly called the headmaster and informed him of the development; Ozpin had actually paused in surprise, it was the first time she had ever seen that happen. Ozpin had soon agreed to meet with the man and see if he could fit the position, although Glynda had wondered about the fond nostalgia that had misted over his eyes…

Then she had called the number provided; she had fought to keep the excitement out of her voice when she spoke to him, lest it lower his opinion of her. The conversation had been short and to the point, but they had agreed that she would come and pick him up from the hunter's lodge in the city.

Even now, as she stood outside the impressive building, she couldn't but feel a small pulse of nervousness. What would he be like? Would he be anything like Ozpin or James? Or more like Qrow? She shivered at the idea of meeting another Qrow; her fragile sanity wouldn't survive. Qrow likely wouldn't survive either, but that was just a bonus.

Stepping into the building, she quickly scanned all the rooms as she passed them, emerald eyes looking for anyone that could fit the bill of being Tim Arc. But her search soon proved fruitless when she reached the back of the building; where could the man be? He said he would be waiting here…

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and a familiar deep voice said, "Glynda Goodwitch?"

She turned to face the speaker, her emerald eyes landing on the hunched over form of an obviously elderly man leaning heavily on his cane and wearing a deep, forest-green cloak. "Yes, that's me," she answered, not at all surprised that someone of his skill was able to sneak up on her. "You are General Tim Arc?"

She could only see the lower half of his face, but she could see the scarred skin twist into a grimace at the mention of his title; did he not like being called general? She would have to remember that, she wouldn't want to offend him.

He lowered his hood and showed the myriad of deep scars that covered his face, the largest being one that had obviously taken his right eye. His mismatched eyes, blue and red, stared at her for a second before he responded, "Just Tim will do."

She nodded, fully intending to get to know the powerful man better. "Well Tim, I have a car waiting outside that will take us to the landing pads and then Beacon. If you'll just follow me."

She started to walk but slowed considerably when she noticed his slow pace; how must it be for a hunter of his calibre to be so reduced in his old age…

"Tim?" she questioned as they walked, "Forgive me for asking, but where have you been the past 80 years? You just vanished after the war ended."

Despite her iron clad self-control she couldn't help but ask the question, she had been in such awe of his story when she was young and she had always wondered what had become of the man.

They continued walking for a time, slowly making their way towards the car she had parked outside. She was just beginning to think that he wouldn't answer or he hadn't heard her, when his deep voice rattled in the way only the elderly seemed to be able to do. "Only recently have I returned to the kingdoms, everything is so different… but still the same. For years I lived in the fallen lands, exiled by my brother and given only Atra Mors to keep me alive after he cut out my eye."

If it had been anyone else, Glynda wouldn't have believed them; the fallen lands were so utterly infested with Grimm that it was impossible to get past the coastline of the continent, let alone spend nearly 80 years _living_ there.

But this was Tim Alex Arc. The legend, the hero, the villain… if anyone could do it, then it was him.

But she'd have to seriously rethink her opinion on Julius Arc. It was one thing to abandon your wayward brother to die on a Grimm-infested island with only a sword, but to maim him first? Cruel and wrong.

"What became of the Arc family?" Tim questioned, seemingly honestly curious and not bitter. "I know Julius is gone, but I can't help but wonder what became of our line…"

An easy question that she'd answer happily for the man, "The Arc family still exists, living a relatively solitary life in an outer village; actually, one of them is attending Beacon this year."

"Is that so?" His voice had an odd, strangled tone to it. Poor man must be a little nervous to meet his family again after so long.

Well, at any rate she would be there to help soothe it all over if anything goes wrong.

Probably.

* * *

Kira and Rose both shivered as they swept through the snow and ice around them, the icy climate of the southern pole slowing them down and picking at their aura.

But that was the least of their troubles at the moment.

From almost the moment they exited the portal and came to this world they had been set upon by the cannibalistic tribes that lived in the area, dozens of savages and reapers trying to kill the two girls and take everything they had.

Kira jumped to the side as a crude spear jammed into the ice where she had been standing, the sharpened rock at the end digging into the frozen water. With a jerk of her hand, the fur-clad man that had thrown the spear was buried under tonnes of snow and left to either freeze or suffocate.

Rose was facing similar trouble; dozens of the savages surrounded her, and were trying to bash her skull in with crude clubs. But skill born from years of combat let the time-traveller slice her way through the snow savages.

"Rose!" Kira snarled as she telekinetically crushed another wildling, "we can't do this forever!"

The physically older woman finished off the fur-clad men around her with a snarl of her own before she flicked the blood off her serrated scythe, "I know, but there's not much we can do."

Kira looked at the field of bloody corpses that surrounded them, fully aware that another group of savages was probably only moments away from finding them. One of the bodies moved, and in an instant Kira reached out with her semblance and hoisted the still alive man into the air. Pale white fur covered every inch of his skin and a huge gash ran along his chest, probably from where Rose had cut him. "You!" Kira hissed into his face as he struggled against the invisible bonds, "tell me how to get your friends to stop attacking!"

The wildling spat on the ground at her feet, "Ha', lam Ha'DIbaH taD!" The harsh, guttural words made no sense to either of the girls.

Rose blinked in confusion, what kind of language was that? She may only know the common tongue, but she would at least recognise the original languages for each kingdom. The spitting words seemed to carry the meaning pretty well however, no doubt it was some kind of insult.

Or maybe the entire language sounded like that?

Kira hissed in frustration. "Dammit! If only 13 were here, he was always good with languages."

Although she would never admit it, 13 was always better at languages than her. It was the only thing that he'd ever had over her, and he made sure to rub it in at every opportunity back during her first life. Granted, she had been totally superior in almost everything else… but that was besides the point.

If only that idiot of hers was here with them, she could remember that he was _very_ gifted with words. He'd been able to speak just about all current languages except Mistrali; he'd been very bitter when he failed to learn that. He might even be able to speak the harsh-sounding words the savages on this frozen shit hole speak.

Despite the bitter cold and the icy winds, Rose mustered up the most condescending look she could, "Really Kira? We have the AI."

Kira wisely chose not to comment on her misstep and instead addressed the AI that she knew was listening, "AI! Do you understand the language?" It wasn't as if she forgot, she just knew that the insane AI was less than reliable.

The pale blue form of the Epsilon fragment appeared, the memory fragment. "I remember so many things… I learnt this tongue as a way to spite the Director who believed that the old words of the First Men were irrelevant and meaningless."

"Good!" Rose declared, more than ready to get out of the blasted cold. "What did he say?"

"He told you that you are a bitch and should go freeze." the projection briefly flickered into Iota, his joy. "It was actually quite funny!" then he shifted back into Epsilon.

Kira's pale lavender eyes narrowed; that just wouldn't do would it? "Tell him I'll let him live if he tells us how to stop the attacks."

The pale projection faded then reappeared before the still struggling man, "ghob je ghojmoHwI'pu'na' qabna'Daj, maHvaD may' taH 'ej Hoch Hegh tuq!"

The prone man tried to recoil, but was held still by the telekinetic grip Kira had on him. The savage's features were torn between hatred and fear, the utter terror being directed solely towards the projection of Jaune. "pung! DubelmoHchugh pung HInob Dun qa'!"

The two girls shared a look, what had caused the sudden fear?

The projection shifted to the fiery red form of the Sigma fragment, ambition and creativity. "He believes I am a powerful spirit." The dual toned voice of Sigma said slowly, almost amusedly. "He begs for mercy."

"Ask him how to end the attacks," Rose demanded, sick of the days of endless fighting in the snow. "Tell him that we'll let him live if he makes it stop."

"chay' HIv puny jubbe' qabna'Daj maH?" Sigma seemed to hover closer to the fearful man as he spoke, the dual toned voice sounding rather disturbing.

"vaj Hoch nov 'oH jatlh joH Hom. ghaHvaD HoH 'ej tuq moj lu'!" The words were shouted, desperation colouring his voice.

A smile spread across Sigma's face as he relayed the words of the savage to his captors, "he said that if we kill the lord of his clan then the attacks will stop."

"Great!" Kira hissed over the rising cold winds. "Where is he?"

The savage must have anticipated the next question, as his head jerked backwards indicating a direction, "joH Hom DeSDu' chuch bIQtIq, ghaH tu' pa' SoH."

Sigma nodded, "He says that the lord of bones is at the ice river several miles in the direction he came from."

Kira nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Good. Thank him for the information."

Sigma shifted back into Epsilon, wisp like red flames turning cold and blue. "There is no word for thanks in the words of the first men."

"Oh… oh well." With an idle flick of her wrist, the snow savage was turned into a bloody red smear as Kira crushed him with her semblance.

The AI flickered out, the light fading away with him.

"So we're off to go kill some chieftain or something?" Kira asked as she shivered in the cold.

Rose grimaced as a dozen more savages suddenly appeared on a nearby hill, all of them screaming war cries as they hefted crude stone weaponry. "Sure looks like it…"

All too soon the fighting began anew, and the snow was stained red once again.

 **A/N**

 **So… did anyone see that coming?**

 **Jaune might be going to teach at Beacon… how do you think that will go down?**

 **Goodwitch seems to be a little… in awe of Tim doesn't she? Don't worry she is still the stern, fun hating professor we all know and love. But as you saw her reaction was a rather positive one, seeing Tim as a slightly misunderstood figure who wasn't really in the wrong. That won't always be the case, Jaune will get some extremely negative reactions to his name; some might even be violent.**

 **Poor Rose and Kira, stuck in a snowy land with naught but each other, a crazy AI and a bunch of savages for company. How will they ever get back to society? Will they find Tim? Would they even know who he is?**

 **And what language was that at the end there? Kudos to anyone that can work it out.**

 **Fun stuff aside, let's take a look at the reviews** **… all two of them…**

 **Smithrooks:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Rose and Kira are clever girls, I'm sure they'll work something out eventually.**

 **Tim's personality is rather mellowed out from what it was, but I find that it is so much more fun to write sarcastic characters. As for seeing Amber again… well, she has her role to play in the story, so don't discount her yet.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Saying he does 'good' things is a little strong, bear in mind that he is still deeply selfish and is only doing what he does because of a misguided 'is this what Rose and the others would want?' mindset.**

 **Magic is a tricky concept since technically it can't be quantified like Dust supposedly can. For my stories, magic will just be world bending abilities that are (as of yet) unexplainable within reason.**

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review** **, I only got two last time and I need more!**


	6. Belly of the Beast

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Six

Beta: Smithrooks

Belly of the Beast

Ozpin had always been something of an enigma to Jaune. When he'd first met him all those years ago in the dirty rundown hotel, he'd been suspicious to the extreme. What could a world-renowned hunter and headmaster of Beacon Academy want with some worthless bounty hunter?

Then the aged man had started paying him to go to his school; Jaune had been baffled at the time, why the hell would the old bastard want him at Beacon? There had to some agenda, some goal that the headmaster needed him for.

Those thoughts had plagued Solus all throughout his time at Beacon, the constant suspicion that Ozpin wanted something. But he had never worked it out. He had 'died' before the mystery had been solved, and now he would never know what the wrinkly old bastard had wanted.

But now, sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair facing the man as he stared out the window, Tim couldn't help but feel a small surge of anger towards the headmaster. Unlike last time, he would not allow himself to become a pawn in this man's game. He would remain free.

Even if it cost him his life.

"We've met before, you know." The words were said with an idle calmness, as if merely commenting on the weather outside. "I was a young lad, a nervous wreck before my first battle during the war."

Okay… maybe Jaune could play this like he simply didn't remember. "Oh?" he replied, fully aware of Goodwitch pacing in the background. "I don't recall." The real Tim Arc had probably met dozens of people during the war, he couldn't be expected to remember all of them.

Ozpin chuckled lightly and finally turned to face Tim, bespectacled eyes locking onto the mismatched orbs of the much younger man. "No, I doubt you would. You walked past and told me to either man up or get my brown trousers."

Tim barked out a laugh, he'd pay to see someone say that to Ozpin. "Sounds like me. Did we win that battle?"

"...No." The words were quiet, sad.

Tim sighed; they were getting sidetracked. "Enough nostalgia, let's get to the real reason for my being here."

The headmaster straightened, his previously cloudy eyes sobering as he was brought back to the present. "Yes… why is it you wish to become a teacher here? A man of your standing could live a very comfortable life and want for nothing."

Tim smirked weakly, he could… but he'd get bored. "I'm old now Ozpin, but I still want to do something with my life. Not just waste away in some fancy Atlesian estate. I figure teaching would be the best way for me to contribute."

Goodwitch chimed in from behind him, "Having a man of Mr. Arc's skills would be a great boon headmaster, and it would free up some of my time."

Ozpin hummed and lowered himself into his rather comfy looking seat, "While that is true Glynda, you have to look at the negatives as well. A man of General Arc's-" Tim scowled, "-reputation would incite a very mixed reception from the students. Faunus students in particular might react… negatively."

"I don't care about petty hatreds over things like race." Tim sighed, "The faunus may hate me all they want, but that doesn't mean I won't try to teach them."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow, "You don't care about race? Then why, pray tell, did you join the humans in the war? Why not stay with your family?"

Goodwitch leapt to his defence quickly, "I don't think he needs to answer that Ozpin-"

Tim cut her off, "I did what I did in the name of peace and sanity."

A cold look passed over Ozpin's face, and an almost unnoticeable chill settled in the room. "But not in the name of the Arcs."

Tim closed his eyes; although he wouldn't say it, Ozpin hated him. Hated all that he was and all that he had done, the younger man probably thought of Tim as a manifestation of all his own personal sins. "No, they disowned me. But I define myself by my actions, not what people think of my actions."

Ozpin sipped his coffee slowly, the dead look in his eyes boring into the mismatched orbs of the fallen Arc. "Were it up to me, then I would have you evicted from this school."

There it was, out in the open.

"Headmaster!" Glynda cried in outrage, "Surely that isn't necessary! I-"

Ozpin raised his hand and cut her off, "But it is not up to me." He rose to his feet once more and moved towards the window, his dark eyes gazing over the school and beyond. "The Council has gotten wind of your wish to become a teacher and has forced the request through."

Ozpin glanced backwards to the older man, "You are now a professor of Beacon, do not abuse this privilege."

With the aid of Atra Mors in its cane form, Tim pushed himself to his feet; his back ached terribly and his right leg was weak and shaky. "I won't."

"Glynda will help you get situated. Now I have other matters to attend to, so if you could see yourself out." Ozpin didn't look at him; the cold detachment was in steep contrast to the gentle warmth the Jaune remembered from his time as a student.

Without another word said, Tim allowed Glynda to lead him out. The elevator ride was quiet and slightly awkward, but the Slayer of Independence was content just to ride it out in the silence.

The doors opened with a ding and the two teachers stepped out; Tim limping heavily and relying on his cane to move, and Glynda being kind enough to slow down her usual pace so her new colleague could keep up. After about five minutes of silent walking, they came to a plain-looking wooden door in a section of Beacon that Jaune could only vaguely remember.

Glynda opened the door and Tim stepped inside. It was a comfortable room with a few soft-looking chairs and a television in the corner, there were three doors scattered around and a balcony overlooking the Emerald Forest. "This will be your room," Glynda announced as she ran her finger along a chair to check for dust, "Mine is right across the corridor if you need something."

"Thank you." Even now, the words felt alien on his tongue.

The blond woman nodded sharply once and left the room, the gentle click of the door the only thing signifying her departure.

Jaune slowly let his eyes wander across the room. The deep red colouration of the curtains and the carpet, the stained wooden walls and doors… much nicer than anything he had ever lived in before. A quick check showed that the doors led to a small bedroom, a bathroom and the last was a nice office with a few pens on the dark wood desk.

He had a desk now… funny how the little things tend to make him feel the most emotion.

Slowly, he felt a lone tear leak out of his real eye; he was a damn fool. A weak fool… but he'd never lived in such a nice place. The Director's facility had been cold and lonely at first, Kira's presence being the only thing making it liveable. After he'd killed her… it became icy and depressing. The only company he'd had were the whispers of the long dead subjects and the tortured AI of Stanis Braun. Before that he'd lived with the Arcs… but that was _so_ long ago. He remembered… but the memory of warmth and kindness was distant and muffled by what happened later.

But this place… it could never truly be his home. He was just a lingering wisp of a dead man.

He smiled weakly. A dead man he may be, but the students were coming in the next two or so days, and he had to plan his lessons…

* * *

Kira and Rose stared at the savage and crude structure before them; it was made entirely of bones from all different types of creatures. But it was predominantly made of human and faunus skeletons.

The girls had spent a little over an hour gutting the cannibals and other savages to get to where their former captive had said their leader was, and if it weren't for the constant fighting and movement then they would have frozen to death quite some time ago. That, and the stolen furs from the bodies of the savages helped too.

A huge man stepped out of the skeletal dwelling, covered head to foot in thick white armour that was painted to look like bone. "jIHvaD qaDta'bogh SoH tuq? Hom chel jIH vuDmey tlhopDaq!" the harsh guttural words were barked out, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth.

"Epsilon!" Rose hissed, hoping that the memory fragment would aid them.

But luck wasn't on her side today; the wispy, flame-like form of Sigma appeared. "Yes, my dear Ruby? Do you wish to know what he said?"

Rose glared at the darkest AI as Kira kept her eyes on the huge man, "Yes Sigma, what did he say?"

"He wished to inform you that he shall be using your skulls as a bowl and your blood as a soup."

"Lovely," Kira muttered, "so if we kill him them we can go without being attacked?"

Sigma nodded, the burning wisps licking at his form. "jubbe' HI'Ij, tuq ghaH vIghaj 'ej Hom vIghaj wa'logh toy'wI' bIHegh." The armoured man sneered at Sigma as the AI spoke.

"Yes, when we kill him we can leave in peace."

"Good!" Kira hissed, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I want to leave this icy shit hole as soon as possible!"

The huge man reached over his shoulder and held a spiked club aloft, the weapon was at least as large as Kira was and looked to be made of solid iron. "jIHvaD SuvmeH vaj naghIl!" the words were bellowed roughly, a challenge.

"He wants you to fight him."

Rose dismissed the AI, content to beat the man before them then return to society. In a haze of motion the red and silver form of her Crescent Rose was deployed before her, the serrated blade gleaming dangerously in the weak sunlight. "Well Kira, we may be on our way home sooner than we thought."

The raven-haired girl scoffed, "Don't get cocky, just hurry up and beat him." She crossed her arms.

Rose grinned and dashed forwards, a faint trail of deep crimson rose petals showing the use of her semblance.

To her surprise the horizontal strike that would have split the man in two was blocked, not by his club but instead by his armour. The white metal didn't have so much as a scratch in it where the razor-sharp blade of Crescent Rose impacted.

The savage man grinned, small chunks of human flesh still stuck in his rotting yellow teeth from his last meal. In one clunky, slow motion he smashed his club downwards to crush Rose's skull.

The time-traveller jumped out of the way with ease and slashed at him again, but just like last time the strike was rendered useless against his metal armour. "Huh," Rose muttered as she idly dodged another strike, "that's some pretty tough armour you have there."

The savage roared in fury at not being able to hit her, and with a mighty heave swung his club once again.

With speed unparalleled, Rose stepped to the side and ran her scythe across the much less protected inner thigh of the cannibal. "But armour is no substitute for actual skill."

The huge man screamed in pain but didn't let up, he swung around and tried once again to bash Rose's skull to powder. But Rose was one step ahead; as he swung she stepped in and under the club, then jammed a small knife into the unarmoured gap of his wrist.

He dropped the club and howled in agony as the knife speared out the back of his wrist, but agony bubbled over to fury as he swung his other hand in a vicious punch.

Rose ducked under the blow in one smooth movement and the cannibal staggered forwards at the lack of resistance. "Even the best armour has weak-points," Rose muttered as she swung her scythe and jammed it into the back of his neck, killing him instantly.

The man dropped to the ground as a black viscous sludge leaked out of his wounds, but Rose didn't notice that since she was too busy walking over to Kira with a slight grimace marring her features.

But Rose soon noticed that Kira wasn't looking at her. Kira's pale lavender eyes were darting around wildly, flickering between all the savage tribesmen and something behind the elder woman. "Kira, what are you-" Rose went to ask, but a deep reverberating voice from behind cut her off.

" **You little things that live in the light, clinging to your feeble suns that die until only the darkness remains."**

Rose whipped around, her silver eyes widening to the extreme as she looked at the man she had killed; his body stood upright, and black sightless eyes glared at her as the mouth moved in a sick parody of human speech. "Identify yourself!" Rose cried, hiding just how fearful she actually felt.

" **You know my name."**

No she didn't, that was a lie. "What do you want?" Thick black sludge leaked out of his eyes, nose and mouth; it looked so foul that it put the Grimm to shame.

All the savages that had been watching the fight began to shake and scream, the same black sludge leaking out of them. A sickening black aura seemed to escape all their bodies as they stood prone.

" **You will die here, all of you. This world is your grave."**

Rose and Kira couldn't help but feel a thrill of terror as all the savages spoke as one, over a hundred deep inhuman voices merging into something terrible.

The AI of Jaune flickered to life, the deep burning red and dual-toned voice showing that Sigma, the ambition and creativity, was in control. "If you are the beast, which one? The world has been busy since you've been gone, there's more religions than there are planets in the sky, which devil do you believe yourself to be?"

Kira glared at the AI. The fool was angering the foulness…

" **ALL OF THEM."**

The ground shook and shuddered under the words, the snow seemed to darken and storm clouds gathered.

But Sigma pushed on, undeterred by something he couldn't feel. "What?" he scoffed, "you're the truth behind the myth?"

" **This one knows me… as I know him; the killer of his own kind."**

Rose and Kira were still paralysed in fear, the voices of the beast around them slithering into their very souls.

"If that is true, then how did you end up on this rock?" the AI asked, utterly undaunted.

" **The disciples of the light rose up against me and chained me to this world for all eternity."**

Sigma smirked, not really believing what he was hearing. "When was this?"

" **Before time."**

Sigma growled, obviously displeased with the answer, "And what does that mean?"

" **Before time."**

"What does 'before time' mean?" Sigma demanded; he wanted to know.

" **Before Remnant and light and space and matter. Before the cataclysm, before this universe was created."**

"That's impossible, no life could have existed back then." Sigma denied. Such a thing was beyond possibility, and therefore could not exist.

" **Is that your religion?"**

Sigma snorted, the flame like wisps clinging tighter to his form. "It's a belief."

The body of the clan leader raised a single hand. Rose and Kira staggered back as they felt force unlike anything they had ever experienced before wash over their bodies.

" **You know nothing, all of you so small."** The twisted and now heavily rotted parody of a man pointed at Rose, **"The withered rose; so scared of command, haunted by the eyes of a team lost."** He turned to point at Kira; the little clone quailed under the darkness. **"The lost girl, so far away from home… the valiant child who will die in battle so very soon."** He pointed towards the flickering, flame-like wisps of Sigma, **"And you; the kin slayer, the fragmented, you are many but you are one. You are a shadow of a man that died years ago but still lives today."**

Finally, Rose found her voice, her spirit and iron will surpassing her fear for the time being as she stared at the army of the dead around her. "What do you want?"

" **Serve me, little children… kill the shadow from the void and you will live forever."**

"Kill?" Rose demanded, "if you are who you claim to be, then why not kill him yourself?"

" **Because you have power… power yet untapped, you could be so much more than you are. Join me and we shall destroy Cinder together… but first your precious Jaune must die."**

"He killed me once you know…" Kira said slowly as she felt her aura swell within her, "But I still love him more than I fear you."

The army of corpses around them snarled as one, their rapidly rotting bodies twisting into hateful expressions. But Kira wouldn't let them.

With one massive burst of aura, all the former tribesmen were blasted backwards from Kira's semblance, but an indomitable pressure weighed down on the girl as she held the bodies back. The former leader of the clan stood against the tidal wave of pressure, rotting skin peeling away as he howled at them. "BEGONE!" Kira howled at him, more than done with the creature before them.

" **I AM THE RAGE! I AM THE BILE AND FEROCITY! I AM THE PRINCE AND THE FALL! I AM THE AMITY, THE SIN, THE FEAR AND THE DARKNESS! I SHALL NEVER DIE! THE THOUGHT OF ME IS FOREVER IN THE BLEEDING HEARTS OF MEN, IN THEIR VANITY, OBSESSION AND LUST! NOTHING WILL EVER DESTROY ME! NOTHING!"  
**

Finally, the now skeletal corpse of the lord of bones shattered under the power of Kira, bones and armour withering until they were blown away in the winds of her power. But a single word lingered, the air around them felt sick and wrong from just the sound of it…

" **Salem…"**

Rose and Kira ran.

 **A/N**

 **So… yeah. That happened.**

 **Salem played her hand a little early in the game; but don't think she's done yet, this was more of a test on her part to see if Kira or Rose could be swayed to her side so she wouldn't need Jaune.**

 **And do you think Salem was being arrogant? Or was she telling the truth? I know almost nothing about her has been revealed yet, and I probably screwed myself over pretty epicly for when we get more information, but if it really comes down to it I can just make this AU… which now that I think about it is pretty ironic considering the circumstances.**

 **It was actually pretty interesting writing Salem's lines; as some of you may have guessed by some of the comments I've made I am an atheist and as such writing stuff that has a pretty heavy basis in religion is… different to say the least. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it, I've always been fascinated by religious imagery and concepts - just never able to accept them as fact.**

 **That aside let's look at the reviews:**

 **DinomyteHero:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah, the first story was a little rough in my humble opinion, but I feel this one will be better.**

 **As for him and his students… let's just say that all of them (Jaune included) will become masters at the ancient art of dodging when Tim is through with them.**

 **Smithrooks:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.  
AHAHAHA! I was starting to wonder if anyone would notice that! Tim made a grave mistake by just dropping it off a cliff, in part it could be attributed to his mind being deeply set on other things, but it was still a stupid mistake to make. But Tim has already made some pretty epic mistakes other than that as well, granted he was delirious with blood loss and terrible pain when he made the most dire of these mistakes, but that still doesn't excuse the utter stupidity that he has so far displayed.  
**

 **Writing Tim as a teacher is, and will be, good fun simply because he's such a sarcastic ass. Also interaction with other important characters and stuff, but Glynda in particular was interesting to write - her point of view was a rather neutral one.**

 **Rose and Kira will have... an interesting experience. But I'm sure you already know how well things are starting off for them.**

 **sl0bad:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Tim will have quite a bit of fun with his students, don't worry. And I can't say whether or when Rose and Kira make it to Tim, just that they will have quite the journey.**

 **And yeah, old Logan vibe fits pretty well. Tim is** _ **very**_ **old at the start of this story.**

 **Da Etan:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Jaune, or Tim as it were, will be teaching with his own unique style of things. And maybe this chapter gave you some insight as to what the bad guys are doing.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Rose and Kira are both stupidly OP, just like how Tim would be if he weren't currently a cripple - as is he could utterly crush any of the teams but would struggle with much else.**

 **As for how people survive in the wasteland, well this chapter partially answers that - prayer. They are basically a religious cult for Salem.**

 **Guest:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Why thank you, that's very kind of you to say.**

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!**


	7. Arc Victorious

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Seven

Beta: Smithrooks

Arc Victorious

 _It was an odd sensation, feeling every move his body made but having utterly no control over it. Jaune knew he was in a dream of some kind, because he remembered himself going to bed and gradually falling asleep once he had rid his mind of thoughts about his new teaching job._

 _He was dreaming, he knew it - that should have been the first sign that something was amiss. Normally he dreamed of his past, either that or a nightmare; but never was he aware that he was dreaming. But this was different; he knew that he must be in a dream and he could feel everything around him, but he had no control._

 _He felt smaller than he should have been, smaller and weaker. And instead of seeing things in the computerised vision he had become used to, he saw the world like he did before the upgrade. With two eyes as well. Just what kind of dream was this?_

 _He sat atop a horse within a mist covered forest; before him were two rows of men lined up in firing position, shakily pointing their ancient-looking rifles into the fog. In his hands he held a small silver pistol, this too looked ancient but was obviously kept in good repair if the shine was anything to go by._

 _A crow cawed in the distance somewhere, and Jaune felt himself shift upon his horse._

 _Suddenly the information came to him, all in a mess and hard to decipher…_

 _This was the outskirts of the Emerald Forest, he had just been given command of the lowest ranking squadron in the Valean army: Havoc squad. The Council had become aware of an impending Faunus attack coming through here to destroy their supply lines, and they were using this battle as a test for him to see if he was really on their side and this wasn't a ruse._

 _A rush of anger that was not his own clouded Jaune's mind for a second. How dare they do this to him? The rest of his family was fighting with the foolish Faunus, but they were ignoring the greater threat! The fools, he wasn't surprised that mother and father were ignoring the greater issue. But his younger brother Julius was always the smart one, how could he not see this was for the greater good? Fools, the lot of them._

 _Jaune snapped out of the foreign thought. Where had that come from? What did that mean?_

 _The pounding of hooves on dirt made Jaune focus once again on the memory playing out before him; almost in slow motion, he saw the line of cavalry charging through the fog, the shaking of the riflemen increasing as they saw the charge of what must have been at least 200 Faunus blood riders decked out in full plate armour._

 _One of the rifles in the line fired, that idiot! Those rifles only had a single shot before they needed to be reloaded! The riders were still too far away, if they opened fire now then they would be nearly defenceless when the Faunus were upon them!_

" _Hold your fire!" Jaune felt himself shout, but the effort was for naught. Down the line, everyone bar a man Jaune somehow knew to be a Lieutenant, his friend, began firing their weapons, the fools!_

 _The war riders let out a mighty battle cry as they drew close, and Jaune felt himself shout once more, "Reload! Reload you fools!"_

 _But again they didn't listen, the formation broke and men started trying to push backwards. "Hold the line!" he shouted, but the effort was moot at this point; terror had already clouded their minds too much for them to listen._

 _Jaune felt himself raise his pistol and shoot into the advancing blood riders; nearby, he saw the Lieutenant do the same. Some of the armoured figures fell from their horses, but all too soon they smashed into the broken lines of Jaune's own forces._

 _Terrified riflemen were cut to pieces instantly as the curved swords and spears of the Faunus blood riders broke what remained of their lines, the riders lashing through the light armour of the human defenders like a knife through butter. The human lines were broken and bodies were being split into tiny chunks, but still Jaune felt himself fire his pistol into the blood riders._

" _Lieutenant, fall back!" he felt himself shout as the Faunus slaughtered more of his men._

 _But out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend shake his head and continue firing into the enemy. It was foolish, but Jaune felt a small rise of happiness knowing that if he was going to die then he wouldn't be alone._

 _He pulled the trigger of his revolver once more, but it clicked empty. Without a moment wasted, he tossed the now useless pistol aside and drew Atra Mors from his hip, the weapon in its sword form gleaming despite the low light._

 _One of the enemy riders drew too close, and in one single movement Jaune felt himself swing his arm and split the Faunus man in half. Again and again Jaune swung his sword, the ancient blade carving through the blood riders' ranks with ease. A few of the riders even managed to block some of his initial strikes, but he had practiced with the sword since the day he was strong enough to lift a stick, and his father had trained him every day since then. Every rider that came too close soon found themselves bisected, their horses panicking when their masters fell from their backs._

 _But it wasn't enough; for every rider Jaune killed, they butchered five more of his men as they fled. In one terrible moment Jaune felt his head turn to look for his friend, but all he managed to see of his trusted Lieutenant was the gleaming silver of a spear being rammed through his chest._

" _SAM!" he felt himself shout, the name tumbling from his lips as he tried in vain to reach him,_

 _But the effort was for naught; the tide of enemy riders was too thick. Twice he almost lost his head as he tried to move his horse closer; he fought with all his might and many riders died, but still he was no closer to saving his friend._

 _Utterly powerless to stop it, Jaune saw the rider that had speared Sam dismount and stand over his friend with his curved sword poised to stab him, the gleaming silver katana shining with the blood of fallen soldiers._

 _Jaune was forced to watch as the armoured Faunus stabbed his friend in the heart. A death cry escaped Sam's lips, but all too soon he fell limp as his life finally left him._

 _Jaune watched all this play out through eyes that were not his own. He had no control, no power… was this a vision? A memory? All the alien emotions he felt… it was real somehow, he knew it._

 _But the body that Jaune inhabited made a mistake, he allowed himself to be distracted by the death of his long time friend. In that single moment of distraction, one of the many riders slammed into the side of his horse and sent both him and the noble beast to the ground._

 _In an instant Jaune felt himself moving; he leapt to his feet and sprinted away from his now dying horse. An enemy rider who'd also lost his mount charged at him on foot with his curved sword raised, but with two quick slashes Jaune killed the man._

 _Another rider charged at him, this time fully mounted and ready to slice Jaune in half with his katana. But again the threat was dealt with quickly. In an instant the sword form of Atra Mors broke apart and coiled on the ground in it's chain whip form; the serrated metal lashed out with his arm and coiled around the charging riders throat, and in one swift tug the head of the enemy Faunus was sawn off, the now riderless horse charging off into the mist behind Jaune._

 _More and more attackers came, from all angles and all of them with either spears or katanas ready to gut him. But he didn't let them get too close. Jaune swung his razor-sharp whip around him, shearing whoever came close in half._

 _He felt a spear jam into his back but he kept moving anyway; the pain was immense, but he couldn't afford to fall now. If he died, then the only hope the world had would die with him._

 _More blades found their way into his body, and yet still more Faunus died around him. "You fools!" Jaune felt himself cry as he killed more, "it doesn't have to be this way!"_

 _But they didn't listen, numbers just kept pouring in and he kept killing them until a field of bodies surrounded him._

 _After what felt like hours but was probably only about a minute or two, Jaune fell to his knees. Blood poured out of many wounds, and darkness threatened to creep into the edges of his vision._

 _But only then did the attacks stop, a single armoured female stepping into view before him, her bloodied sword held loosely at her side. "You are depleted Tim, you hover a breath away from destruction." He knew that voice. That was his mother Jaesa Arc. Would she really do it? Could she really kill her firstborn son?_

 _Probably, the alien emotions that ran through Jaune's head said. She had been enraged when he hadn't joined the rest of the family on the Faunus side of the war, disowning him despite his pleas that he was doing the right thing._

 _But still Jaune felt himself try to fight, calling his once obscene amounts of aura to the surface. But hardly a fizzle escaped him, almost all his aura used up in trying to survive up to this point. "No! My powers abandon me…" he said weakly. Was this really the end? If he died, then no one else except the other Arcs would know about the real problem… and they were too busy fighting with the much weaker rebel Faunus state to address the real issue._

 _His mother hefted her sword upwards, her face no doubt twisting hatefully under her helmet. "Beg me to let you live, and I might spare you."_

 _Beg? Never. They may have disowned him, but he was still an Arc at heart and he would_ never _beg. If he was going to die, then he would die with his dignity. "You think you've won?" he snarled to his mother, "You think you can silence the only voice fighting for our survival?!" His face twisted in anger. "Do it! Deliver the death blow then! From beyond darkness I will strike at you! Someday you will regret this. Someday, vengeance will be mine!"_

 _She raised her sword above her head, the gleaming steel ready to split him in half. "Goodbye my son," she said slowly, "I never wanted this for you. I never wanted any of this for you…"_

 _The blade swung downwards._

 _In that single moment, an Arc died._

 _His sword Atra Mors was lodged deeply into her unprotected neck, her eyes wide with shock and surprise._

 _He retracted the blade, and her body slumped to the ground. "I'm sorry, mother," he whispered. If only it hadn't come to this... despite all that had been said and done, he still loved his mother. Hated what she stood for, but loved her as only a son could. "But I do what I must."_

 _Her eyes dulled, the life leaving her body even as the remaining blood riders stood in open-mouthed shock, staring as their leader was killed._

 _Jaune watched it all, all the foreign emotions playing through his system. But then in that single moment there was a snap, and suddenly he was awake again._

* * *

He shot upwards in his bed, sweat pouring down his brow. What the hell had that been? It felt exactly like a memory, all the sights, smells and sounds feeling so real. It was as if he had actually been there.

But what was it? From the thoughts and emotions of the body he had inhabited playing through him, he knew he had just been Tim Alex Arc fighting in the early days of the Faunus wars. But that had been _eighty years ago_. The real Tim Arc was dead, his body forever laid to rest in his tomb deep within Forever Fall. But the memory, the feeling… it was as if he had actually been there.

Could he have just been witnessing a shard of memory left by Tim? Was that even possible? Jaune wasn't really sure. He knew a great deal about aura thanks to all the director's notes and Cinder's experiments, but to leave behind a memory? He wasn't sure.

But he didn't really have time to think too deeply on the matter right now, a glance at the clock on the wall told him that he only had about ten minutes until Glynda collected him for the first staff meeting before the students arrived.

With all the haste possible for a man with a broken spine and a new leg, the Slayer of Independence quickly changed into something slightly more appropriate, back into the forest-green cloak Amber had given him as well as a long-sleeved warm jacket and jeans. He looked exactly like what would be expected of a hundred and forty year old hunter.

A light knock on the door alerted him to Glynda's arrival, "Coming!" he croaked as he hobbled to the door with the help of the cane form of Atra Mors.

He stepped through the entryway and greeted his new co-worker, the expected pointless morning pleasantries were exchanged quickly and soon she was leading him towards the staff room.

"I must warn you," the blonde woman said as they walked slowly towards the staff room, "Bartholomew Oobleck, our resident history teacher, has a rather… low opinion of your actions during the war, and he will likely try to argue with you."

Would he? In his original dimension Oobleck had been a bit of a tool, but still a relatively skilled instructor. Very into the subject he was teaching, always happy to help his students in any way he could. He'd also been fond of comparing the actions of people in the past to the actions of Argentum Mortem and the Lonely Wanderer. Jaune had always found that rather ironic. Would he really hate the reputation of Tim Arc enough to make problems for him? "Is that so?" he finally settled on, "I'll deal with it as it comes I suppose."

She was silent for several moments more, but eventually she spoke again, "And Ozpin won't be at this meeting, a matter requiring his immediate intervention came up."

Ozpin's immediate intervention? Must be serious then. "Okay, that won't be an issue. Is it anything I should be aware of?" he knew how much that old bastard liked to keep secrets.

Glynda shook her head, but her green eyes still showed slight hesitance. She was wary, but what of? Him? Ozpin? Or was the issue actually important but she just couldn't tell him? Questions for later.

They entered the staff room and straight away the conversation within died. Tim glanced around the room as all his old teachers stared at him. Some looked sort of inviting but others… less so. Mixed reactions then, he could work with that. "Hello, my name is Tim Arc," he greeted, hoping to break the ice.

The large and slightly round form of Peter Port jumped to his feet and grabbed his hand in a hearty handshake, "Glad to meet you!" the jolly man cried, "I'm Peter Port, professor of Grimm Studies. But you can just call me Peter, old chap!"

Gods, he'd forgotten just how much he'd hated this man. Must not kill…

Introductions went around and most of them were somewhat cordial, even if he could tell that most didn't like him. The meeting progressed slowly for about an hour, mostly Glynda making final decisions about the timetable. But for the entire time, all Tim saw was Oobleck sitting across the room, staring at him with thinly veiled anger.

Why exactly was the green-haired professor so angry with him? All the terrible things the original Tim Arc did happened eighty years ago, well before Oobleck was even born. Perhaps the man's family had been affected somehow? Or perhaps the man was simply disgusted by what history had shown of the original Tim Arc; maybe he felt righteous anger over the death of so many Faunus.

But soon the meeting drew to a close, and with it most of the staff members began filing out of the room to go do their own thing. But before Jaune could leave Oobleck cornered him, the professor utterly ignoring Goodwitch's barks of protest as he glared daggers into the crippled man. "My name Is Bartholomew Oobleck, you are Tim Arc."

Gee, thank you captain obvious. "Yes I am," he answered instead, best not to burn any bridges this early. "What of it?" But if the man picked a fight… well, Jaune would be the one to end it.

"What you did during the war was beyond unforgivable."

Ah, he'd abandoned all subtlety then? The man was clever in his own right, but purposely angering a man with a reputation like Tim Arc? Not the brightest of ideas. Maybe the Oobleck from this universe was a simpleton? So many possibilities... "So I've been told."

But Oobleck wasn't finished yet, his voice cracked out like a whip. "What was it you said during your trial in Vacuo? 'I did what I did for the good of the realm'? Very callous, you ended thousands of lives, and you ruined many more." the green-haired man sneered, his face twisting aggressively.

Tim scoffed, the realm? Perhaps as a child he had believed in such things, but he knew how the world worked; he knew the way of things. "The realm… do you know what the realm is?" time to begin his career as an educator, starting with Oobleck and anyone else who was listening. "It's the thousand fangs and claws of the Grimm that besiege us everyday. A story we agree to tell each other over and over until we forget that it's a lie."

In the background behind Oobleck, Goodwitch stopped trying to pull the man away, her vibrant green eyes flickering to Jaune's mismatched orbs.

But what he'd said only seemed to anger Oobleck even more, "But what do we have left once we abandon the lie?" he demanded, "Chaos, a gaping pit waiting to swallow us all."

Oh how wrong he was… for a hunter of his skill level Oobleck held far too much faith in human nature, he was far too naive. He didn't yet realise just how the world worked, how the _real_ world worked. "Chaos isn't a pit…" Tim said slowly, letting it sink in. "Chaos is a _ladder._ "

Glynda's features darkened, her face growing sad as she stared at him. Oobleck recoiled as if struck, his face twisting in horror as Tim continued.

"Many who try to climb it fail, never get to try again; the fall breaks them." Argentum Mortem, he climbed so high… but the fall tore him to pieces… "And some are given a chance to climb, but they refuse. They cling to the realm, or the gods, or love… illusions." The Wanderer, so stuck on his love for something gone… "Only the ladder is real, the climb is all there is."

They both stared at him, Glynda with pity and Oobleck with anger. "You were a hunter once," Oobleck sneered, "this is what you have become? You have forsaken every vow you ever took!"

Ah, he'd read some of the vows that hunters took back in those days. Things hadn't changed much, not really. The vows the Council's enforced before fully instating a hunter… it was all utter bullshit. But it was way worse eighty years ago; the vows the original Tim Arc took were beyond stupid. "So many vows…" he muttered, "they make you swear and swear; defend the Council, obey the Council… obey your father, protect the innocent and the weak. But what if your father despises the Council? What if the Council massacres the innocent?" Every vow Tim ever took had been broken during the wars… but not without reason. "It's too much. No matter what you do, you're forsaking one vow for another."

Oobleck looked at him with such hatred, such anger… but Jaune was used to it. Whatever hate this one man could level on him was nothing compared to the hate that Jaune had felt piled on him for most of his life. "That's the look," Jaune said, a sudden burning anger clouding his vision and mind. "I've seen it all my life on face after face. You all despise me… Slayer of Independence… Kinslayer… Mad Butcher… man without honour… I've heard it all." He sneered, anger clouding his mind. "Say what you want, but your words mean nothing to me."

Oobleck shook his head in utter disgust as he left the room, but Tim didn't care. The fool could go rot for all he cared.

"Tim?"

And suddenly all the fury he had felt a moment before fled in an instant, and was replaced with a terrible headache as Glynda said his name, her vibrant green eyes peering at him in concern. "I'm sorry for his attitude, but he has always held a poor opinion of the events of the war."

What…? Gods his head hurt… "That's okay." Why was this happening? The upgrades should prevent stuff like this… "If you'll excuse me Glynda, I need to go arrange lesson plans." A valid excuse, mainly because he did actually need to do that. But gods his head hurt, what could be causing this?

"Oh," her face was held in its usual stern expression, but he could see that she was slightly disappointed about something. "I'd hoped we could talk… but perhaps another time then."

Why the hell did everyone want to talk to him? Surely he wasn't that interesting… "Another time then." Why did his head hurt so much? Everything was pounding…

With all the haste that he could muster, Tim limped from the now near-abandoned staff room back towards his quarters. The world seemed to grow fuzzy around him as he neared his front door, lights shifting across his vision as he felt his body shudder and shake.

With what seemed to be a momentous effort he staggered into his room, but the moment the door shut behind him Jaune slammed into the ground. It took him a moment to realise he had fallen; his eyes seemed unable to focus on the red carpet less than a centimetre from his face, but after that single moment had passed he felt the world darken around him, and suddenly he knew no more.

 **A/N**

 **Poor Jaune, locked into a dream of things that happened** _ **so**_ **long ago. At least he got to lay down the verbal smack to Oobleck! Nothing like a good argument to get the blood pumping right?**

 **That dream at the beginning… does anyone know what it was about? Who's perspective Jaune was seeing things from? It certainly wasn't his own, and it should be pretty obvious who it was given the weapon used. Why do you think that Jaune saw these things? Could there be more at work here than expected? Of course there is! It's me after all, I don't really do conventional very well.**

 **That aside let's see the reviews:**

 **Smithrooks:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Yeah the first proper introduction for Salem had to be suitably epic for her.**

 **How Tim interacts with the other characters will be one of the major points throughout the story, and his actions - or lack thereof -** _ **will**_ **have long term effects on how everyone interacts with each other. In particular how Tim treats Jaune and team RWBY will be interesting to note.**

 **hirshja:  
** **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Meh, I know exactly how I plan on ending this story so if in canon Salem turns out to be pretty different then I can just say this is another AU. At this point anyone who reads my stories should know that I tend to play around with multiverse theory quite a bit.**

 **thelastcenturion2015:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **No that wasn't intentional. But hey, I really like Doctor Who so maybe I did it without thinking?**

 **As to why I lost so many followers… I really don't know, stuff like this happens I suppose. The original Edge of Life can be read as a stand alone story, and I suppose most people were just content with where things ended there as a pose to working their way through Requiem and then later Absolution (Spoilers).**

* * *

 **As always, thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	8. Red Rider

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Eight

Beta: Smithrooks

Red Rider

 _Jaune found himself in a similar position as he did during his last dream, utterly incapable of controlling his actions and being forced to simply observe._

 _But things were also different; the body he was watching things through was smaller, the second-hand emotions simpler, and there wasn't the underlying tension racing through his small shoulders._

 _He knew he was the same person, however; the general information seemed about the same. Tim Arc, son of Tobias and Jaesa Arc, elder brother to Julius Arc. But this must be earlier in his life, the young body couldn't have been any older than about 9 or 10._

 _Tim and a smaller boy that he knew to be his brother raced out of the house, their small hands tightly clutching wooden practice swords. Julius was about 4 years younger, but they both still liked to do friendly fights - even if Julius never actually won._

 _The sky was filled with dark bruised clouds, and the rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance. A sure sign that it would begin to rain in the next few moments._

 _As they were moving away from the house, their fight began. Tim felt himself swing his 'sword' downwards, but he was greeted with the dull thud of wood on wood as Julius blocked. Again and again he swung, sometimes from different angles, but Julius either dodged or blocked._

 _But that hardly mattered; Julius was giving it his all, but Tim himself was hardly trying._

 _Finally Julius moved on the offensive, weakly swinging his sword in his elder brother's direction. But he had left himself open while doing so, and as such Tim deftly flicked the offending sword away and held his own wooden sword at his brother's neck._

 _Julius frowned, but Tim smiled. "That was better, but be careful not to leave yourself open brother."_

 _Julius' frown faded at the advice, a smile gracing his young face, "Thank you Tim."_

 _Tim moved back until their swords were just touching at the ends of the wooden blades. With a sharp nod, the fight began once again._

 _Tim led the fight this time, opening with a strong overhead cut that staggered the weaker boy when he tried to block._

 _Seeing his moment, Tim retracted his sword then swung twice more, a feint to the left then an actual strike to the right._

 _Julius lost his grip on the sword and the carved wood tumbled out of his hand, falling into the muddy ground below._

 _Tim poked his brother gently in the stomach with his weapon, a kind smile on his face, "Perhaps next time Julius."_

 _The younger boy smiled weakly, "Yeah, maybe next time."_

 _Tim's smile faded instantly when his father approached Julius from behind, a deep scowl on his face. Tobias Arc was not a kind man; Tim had the bruises to prove it. But this time his ire wasn't directed towards Tim himself, but towards Julius…_

 _Tim backed away as their father barked at Julius for his failure. "Pathetic," the master swordsman muttered, a dark look on his face. "That was absolutely pathetic Julius, you are worthless with the sword."_

 _Julius looked downwards, small tears beginning to form in his eyes from the insults. With a single jerk of his leg Tobias kicked the fallen sword into Julius, making the 5-year-old stumble and fervently try to catch the blade._

 _Father drew his own wooden practice sword, facing down his youngest son with a look of mild disdain. "Fight me boy, prove your worth."_

 _Julius looked absolutely terrified, his little body shaking. This was made all the worse, as when he and father raised their weapons it finally began to rain, the fat droplets of water falling from the bruised clouds above._

 _Tim watched, utterly frozen as Julius charged Tobias with a small shout. Their father had mostly left Julius alone up until this point, focusing his attention on Tim himself. Julius knew what their father was like, but he hadn't felt what their father was like. It was wrong, Tim didn't want to see his brother beaten to a bloody pulp; but at the same time, he knew there was nothing he could really do._

 _Father merely stepped to the side and flicked Julius' weapon lightly, making the body stumble as he lost his balance._

 _When he caught himself Julius turned to their father once again, this time swinging a horizontal strike. But to the boy's dismay the attack was lazily blocked. Again and again he attacked, but each time the blows were swatted to the side with absolutely no effort on Tobias' part._

 _Eventually, the elder Arc got bored. As Julius swung one last time, Tobias caught the wooden blade in his hand. A sneer decorated his face as he raised his own wooden sword high, ready to strike Julius' young face-_

" _Stop!" Tim felt himself shout._

 _Tobias stopped instantly, his blade halted mid swing. Slowly he turned to face Tim, his face dark and expression unreadable. "What?" he demanded, "I am teaching."_

" _No!" Jaune felt himself shout through Tim's lips, still with utterly no control. "Don't do it!"_

 _Father released Julius' blade and the younger boy scampered off, a terrified look on his face._

" _If you think you and your brother so powerful that you are above my teaching," he sneered as he raised his blade to point it at Tim, "then fight me, prove your strength."_

 _Thunder boomed and rain pounded down, but that didn't stop either of them. The elder Arc's cheek twitched and instantly Tim moved into action, raising his sword above his head to strike-_

 _But his strike was abruptly ended as the hilt of his father's sword slammed into his sternum, all the air leaving his body in an instant as it exploded out of his lungs. The blow staggered him, forcing him to one knee as he panted for air, but he didn't yield. With all the strength he could muster in his oxygen-deprived state, Tim swung his sword upwards-_

 _But before he could move so much as two centimetres, his father's blade slammed down on his, forcing it out of the younger boy's hand and sending it tumbling into the mud._

 _Tobias stood over him, and with hardly a scoff he turned away from Tim, slowly moving back towards where Julius watched._

 _But Tim wouldn't let that happen. Despite his aching chest, he grabbed his sword and forced himself to his feet, using the weapon to help him up as he did so._

" _Stop," Tim demanded, not willing to let Julius suffer when it could be him._

 _Tobias turned, a look of mild surprise on his face. But surprise turned to a sigh as Tim raised his blade and pointed it at his father._

 _This time Tobias was the first to act, his blade sweeping low as he attacked the legs._

 _Tim just barely managed to block the attack, the force of the blow making his arms shake and shudder. But Tim wasn't even fast enough to see the follow up attack, his father's sword slicing through the rain in an instant and hammering Tim's nose._

 _Tim staggered as he felt his nose snap in two, his eyes watering from the sudden pain. But he hardly had time to even realize what had happened before his father took his legs out from under him and threw him back into the muddy ground._

 _Tobias kicked Tim's sword out of his hand with a scoff, the hand-crafted wood splashing through the muddy ground. Tobias turned to face Julius once more, slowly taking a step towards-_

" _Stop," the voice of Tim stopped the elder Arc dead in his tracks. His nose was visibly broken and blood leaked down his face, but despite this his voice was strong, his face resolute._

 _Slowly, Tim rose to his feet, clutching his soaked and muddy sword in his right hand as he did so. Tobias actually looked impressed, pleased with the resilience that Tim was showing._

 _But that didn't stop the elder man; he wanted to test his son's limits. With a small shout, the elder Arc charged his son once again._

 _Tim blocked the first strike, his sword arm rattling as he did. Then he blocked the second strike, his arm feeling utterly numb. But then in one blindingly fast movement Tobias spun around and lashed out with his leg, the kick slamming into Tim's solar plexus like a bulldozer._

 _Tim folded instantly, but his father wasn't done. Continuing his momentum, Tobias swung his sword around and slammed in into Tim's shin, hurling the boy to the ground with all his weight._

 _Tim groaned, his body feeling utterly broken. But still he tried to rise, slowly pushing himself upwards-_

 _But before he could rise any more than a foot, his father slammed his wooden blade onto Tim's back, forcing the boy back into the mud._

 _Tim felt the terrible pain, the nagging thought that he should have just left things well enough alone._

 _But no, he wouldn't let Julius be hurt. He wouldn't allow it. He would take any pain he had to if that would stop Julius receiving it._

 _Grasping his sword once more, Tim rose to his knees; the world shook around him, his vision hazy and unfocused. But he saw his father standing before him, a look of honest astonishment on the elder man's face._

 _Tim weakly swung the sword at his father's leg, hitting as hard as he could despite the utter weakness that pervaded his body._

 _The attack was caught easily by his father, the elder man giving the blade a strong tug to yank it from his son's hand. But Tim held firm. He wouldn't let Tobias hurt Julius, he wouldn't let this happen, he wouldn't let-_

 _His father's sword smashed into the side of his head, sending him back into the mud and forcing him to release his death grip on the sword. The world grew dark around Tim, but he clung to consciousness; he tried to rise once again, but his body failed him and refused to respond._

 _His father loomed over him, an almost unreadable look on the elder man's face. "You have impressed me, my son," he said slowly as he knelt down and placed his large, calloused hand upon Tim's forehead. "Impressed me enough for your aura to be awakened."_

 _Aura? Wha… everything felt so hazy…_

" _For it is in our passing that we achieve immortality, by our example we become a martyr for the glory of others. Selfless in sacrifice, bound by duty, I release your soul. And by my hand place this burden upon thee."_

 _In that single instant, the dream ended._

* * *

Jaune opened his eyes slowly, the events of the strange dream playing out in his mind over and over again. What was causing these dreams? They felt wrong, like he was nothing more than a nostalgic man watching a movie he remembered vaguely from his childhood. It was strange; he knew he had never seen those events before, but at the same time he felt as if it was a memory. Not his own memory, but one that he sort of recalled anyway.

But why would he see the memories of the real Tim Arc? Sure, he may claim to be Tim himself, but beyond using the name and sharing a distant relation they had nothing in common.

Perhaps it was an aura thing; the soul worked in mysterious ways after all. Cinder and the Director had left extremely detailed files on aura use and manipulation in the facility; he and Kira had pored over them at length in an effort to become stronger. But admittedly most of the material had gone right over their heads, or simply required far more finesse than he'd ever had.

Well, one of the plus sides of the upgrade was practically perfect memory, so he should be able to re-read all the books and files on aura again… see if there was anything about aura and leaving memories behind. On the plus side of things, he didn't really have to worry about not being skilled enough to use certain techniques. With the help of the upgrade, his aura was so large now that finesse was practically irrelevant - he could just power his way through everything.

But all that aside it was time to get moving, the new students were meant to arrive the day after tomorrow, and he and Glynda had quite a few things to arrange today.

Stepping out of his rooms, Tim slowly began to make his way towards Goodwitch's office, his steps slow and jerky from his weak leg and spine. Hopefully Glynda would have a comfortable chair or something for him to sit on, none of that hardwood crap that he'd had to sit on when he was a student.

It was actually rather strange; back when he'd attended Beacon in his home reality Professor Goodwitch had been a near constant source of aggravation, always telling him off and punishing him for perceived offences. Like smoking in the corridors; she'd always been on his case about smoking in the corridors, but he'd never seen any signs saying _no smoking in the corridors_. Sure he'd seen those pictures of a cigarette with a cross over it, but that could mean anything! It was open to interpretation, really.

Or so he'd claimed, anyway.

He knocked on the wooden door of Glynda's office lightly; without bothering to wait for the response, he stepped inside. The harried blonde woman was sitting at a desk that was absolutely covered in sheets of paper, all in organised stacks that covered every inch of the table except the small square of space that had a cup of tea.

"Good morning Tim," the far younger woman said in greeting, not looking up from her paperwork. "Have a seat." She gestured to the comfortable-looking office chair at the side of the table, well away from the rigid hard wooden seats reserved for students.

Internally grinning like a nutter over what he felt was a victory, Jaune sat down. "What is the first order of business?" he asked, keeping the petty amusement off his face.

Finally she turned to him, her green eyes sparing Tim only a cursory glance before she opened the topmost drawer on her desk and pulled out a scroll tablet. "This is yours," she declared, handing the hunter only device over to him. "This was the last one we had in storage, it's an older model but it should serve you well."

Hmm… yes, all the teachers at Beacon had one of these, Tim recalled. They'd mostly been used for grading purposes and the like, but they could also be used to monitor aura levels - something that would no doubt be useful to him as the combat instructor.

"On that tablet you will find all the necessary information for your position, as well as several notes I have left you to aid in teaching."

Oh… that would be helpful. He didn't really know how to teach beyond just punching people until they learnt… "Thanks," he replied. Not to say punching people wasn't an effective method, it would just be nice to have backup strategies.

But she continued, "And that tablet also contains your new virtual assistant."

...What? A virtual assistant? Like an AI? That couldn't be right, AI were uber-difficult to create without them being a copy of a person - and the person in question never actually survived beyond the rarest of circumstances, funny how removing someone's brain tends to kill them. No way would Beacon staff be given AI; it was either too expensive, or way too morally repugnant for the council to even consider allowing it to happen. "Assistant?" Tim demanded, "Explain."

"It's not a true AI, as it lacks awareness of self." Oh good, it must be some kind of VI then. A system with a very specific set of limits, but that can still operate with total impunity with the bounds of its program - and in no way self aware. "Like I said, this one is an older model and we've had it in storage for about 30 years… but well, if it doesn't work properly then we can just order a new one. Though that may take quite a bit of time."

Whatever, he'd make due. "Okay…" he said slowly, fiddling with the scroll to activate it. "Do you have one?" he asked. He didn't really care for the answer, but it was the polite thing to do.

She tilted her head in acknowledgment, "Alison, say hello to Mr. Arc."

Her own tablet had a pale blue light shining in its corner, "Hello Mr. Arc." It was a cold and synthesised voice, though it sounded vaguely female in nature.

Tim grunted back; so it was just a advanced operating system. Nothing like a true AI, or anything even remotely close to it. With just the press of a button he activated his own tablet, the screen flashing with a myriad of digits and random codes for a few moments before a deep, chocolate-brown light flickered to life in the corner of the screen.

"Identify yourself, program," Tim demanded once he was reasonably sure that everything was in working order.

The light flickered momentarily, and then a heavy, male-sounding voice rang out from the tablet. "Hola, mi nombre es López."

Tim stared at the tablet. He stared at it _hard_. Of all the stupid, asinine crap he had to deal with… why did the damn thing have to speak the native language of Mistral?! Out of the dozen languages the fucking thing could choose, it chose the one thing he _didn't_ speak?! He spoke a dozen different languages; old Valean, old Atlesian, he even had a rough understanding of the first words of the savage snow tribes of the south. But this thing had to pick one of the two languages that he didn't know?!

Goodwitch however nodded as if this was expected, "We were quite fortunate that we found a model that spoke Mistrali, you were quite well known for your fluency in that language after all."

Mother fucker… he'd forgotten about that. The real Tim had spent quite a bit of time in Mistral, and had been known as being rather good with their native language… which meant that he now had to learn the language if he wanted to keep his cover. And in the meantime, he'd have to pretend to understand what the damnable machine was saying.

"Yeah…" he muttered, trying to keep the murderous look off his face. "How lucky…"

"En qué puedo ser de ayuda?"

Must not kill…

* * *

Tim had to admit, he was starting to empathise with Goodwitch. They'd spent all day poring over class notes, hours wasted away in her cramped office with her helping him determine what exactly to teach the little rotters when they made their way into the school just a few short days from now.

But to his great relief, and hers as well he suspected, their final task for the day was a simple one. And better yet, it was one that involved leaving the school.

Several course books had been printed late, and loathe as he was to put any extra effort into things, Glynda had asked for his assistance in retrieving them from Vale. Normally, he would deny her outright… but the damn woman had been trying to help him all day. As a positive to all of it though, the more he knew about the woman the better his swift and bloody vengeance over the Mistrali assistant would be.

And god, how awkward that had been; every time the damn thing spoke he'd had to make up some response that made it seem like he understood what it was saying. It had only been after about two hours of constant work that he managed to work out that the program was called Lopez, and even then he still had a burning contempt for the damn thing.

"Thank you for helping me with this," Glynda said as she drove calmly through the streets, the books stacked neatly in the back seat of her purple car. "Normally I would have to do this myself, Bart and Peter would be of no help and Ozpin has been terribly busy as of late."

Tim grunted, "Well I-"

The staccato of gunfire cut off what he was going to say, the almost rhythmic sound of automatic weaponry as well as the sharp cracks of an all too familiar high-powered rifle.

Tim sighed as Goodwitch swerved the car around towards the sounds. "We're investigating this," she said resolutely, her face hardly showing the irritation that was no doubt coursing through her.

"Of course we are…" Tim muttered, his eyes sharp and alert despite his mild misgivings. He knew the sound of that rifle, he knew the weapon and he knew the owner. That just begged the question though, why the hell was Ruby Rose firing off high-powered rounds in downtown Vale?

A whooshing explosion cut through his thoughts like a knife through butter, the sound vaguely familiar but was soon blotted out when a Bullhead swooped past overhead. "What is that craft doing?" Goodwitch demanded as she weaved through traffic, "they aren't allowed to do that!"

Tim grunted as he readied himself for a fight, "unless it's a getaway vehicle of some kind."

He could almost _feel_ how hard Glynda grit her teeth. "Prepare to stop them."

Tim just sneered; he was always up for a good fight.

Just as they pulled a corner, they saw the Bullhead hovering next to a smallish building; even at the distance they were at, Jaune recognized his former partner. Clad in her usual black and red clothes, Crescent Rose held firmly in her little hands, and as usual a stupid look of defiance on her face.

Damn girl, he'd never admit how much he missed seeing her annoying little face.

Glynda abruptly brought the car to a stop, both hunters just close enough to hear a voice Tim found all too familiar. "End of the line, Red!" That was Roman.

But Tim didn't have time to ponder the joys of killing that man a third time; already he and Glynda had leapt into action, jumping high onto the building to protect Ruby from what would have been a devastating explosion caused by a red Dust crystal.

Glynda blocked the shot with only a mild application of her aura; Tim himself landed next to Ruby and grabbed her shoulder. "Protect the girl, I will deal with this," the younger blonde said, and with but a wave of her riding crop her assault began in earnest.

Tim jerked Ruby back as she tried to move closer. "Back girl," he growled; it just wouldn't do for Ruby to die due to her own stupidity.

"But I want to help!" she cried as Glynda assaulted the vehicle with a barrage of Dust-based attacks.

"Then help by staying back!" With his vastly greater strength he forced the girl behind him, much to her protest.

With naught but another flick of her weapon a miniature lightning storm appeared over the hovering craft, followed swiftly by a hail of fist-sized shards of razor sharp ice.

But her attack was cut off when a new enemy appeared, this one wreathed in shadows and impossible to make out beyond her dainty-looking legs. She quickly opened with a fiery attack, a blast that was easily blocked by Glynda.

But Glynda soon realised something was wrong; the glowing embers left behind from the attack grew fiercely and within moments they too exploded, sending shards of concrete and stone flying like shrapnel in every direction. Any shards that came near to Tim or Ruby were deftly blocked though, his cane flashing through the air at speeds that Ruby could hardly follow.

"I can help!" Ruby tried to protest, but still Tim held her firmly. This fight was above her, at least for the time being anyway.

But Tim ignored her, his iron grip holding the girl firmly in place lest she do something stupid.

Glynda continued her assault, the broken shards of the building bending under her power and becoming a long sharpened spear that assaulted the Bullhead.

But the shadowed person didn't even seem fazed, simply waving her hands as a fiery power shattered the glowing spear.

Ruby struggled again, this time trying to squirm out of his iron grip. This wouldn't have been a problem, but in her effort to rid herself of him she hit his back right where it had been snapped so long ago. Blistering agony bubbled across his back but Tim only grunted, foolish girl…

But his grunt had obviously distracted Glynda, as her green eyes flickered to him for a moment.

But that moment of distraction was all their attacker needed.

Glowing circles of heat spread out beneath them, a sure sign that the ground below was about to combust in a rather spectacular fashion.

With a growl of irritation Tim shoved Ruby backwards, her thin frame punted across the rooftop by his might. But it was too late for him to get out of the way, his back hurt too much and all he could do was weather the storm.

Fire wrapped around him in blazing heat, hot enough to utterly immolate any normal man that stood where he was. But he was no normal man; the flames coiled around his aura and tried to burn him, but they found no purchase on his person. He could feel the red-hot aura of whoever had caused this, but they were distant and his aura was overpowering. In less than a second, he forced his will over the explosion and the flames bent to his command. The issue with Dust-based attacks was the constant need to have direction and control from the caster, and the minor issue of other people exerting their own aura and will upon the Dust - thus bending it to their command.

Like he just did.

It wasn't a particularly difficult feat, although it would certainly have been beyond him prior to the upgrade. It mostly just required the user to have a strong will and survive long enough for it to work.

With his unspoken command he directed the flames upwards in a funnel, well away from Ruby or Glynda so it could burn itself out safely.

Within moments the fire died, and Tim turned his attention to the two women. Ruby was looking at him in utter awe, and Glynda barely spared a nod in his direction before she turned her scathing gaze towards the younger girl.

"You guys are hunters," Ruby gushed, her silver eyes locked solely on Tim. "Can I have your autograph?"

Tim groaned. God, was Ruby really like this? Couldn't she see that Glynda looked about ready to murder her?

Flicking his hand to remove any leftover ash, Tim stepped towards Ruby, his face set into a deeply irritated expression. "You're coming with us," he grunted as his free hand clamped down on her shoulder like a vice.

* * *

The drive to the nearest police station hadn't been an overly pleasant one, Glynda gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles were white and Tim utterly ignoring anything Ruby said from the back seat.

But thankfully the station was close, and quickly Ruby was placed in a room with a single table and chair.

Glynda paced around the cool room like a caged animal, her expression dark as she looked between Ruby and Tim.

Tim however was seated, the hard metal chair doing little to aid the terrible pain he felt in his back. "Your actions tonight were incredibly foolish. You put many people in grave danger."

Her silver eyes stared at him, almost pleading with him to understand. "But they started it!"

Tim groaned; she still didn't see the issue. "Yes, but you escalated it. You were in the middle of the city, an area packed with civilians _who have no aura_ who would have died if even a single one of your shots had gone astray." Granted, he didn't particularly care if some random was shot, but he had to _act_ like he cared.

 _That_ gave her some pause, the implications of her actions finally seeping in. "I- I didn't realise-"

Glynda cut her off, "But luckily for you, no-one bar perhaps my colleague here was hurt." Ah, that's why Glynda was in such a bad mood. She must be pissy at Ruby for forcing him to stay in the explosion. "If it were up to me you would be sent home with quite the punishment." Her green eyes were hard, but then she sighed. "But it seems you are quite lucky today, as Professor Ozpin would like to extend an offer for you to join Beacon when term begins the day after tomorrow."

And why exactly didn't Ozpin offer this himself? Glynda had mentioned a few times that some particularly pressing business had come up and taken the headmaster's time, but surely the man could spare but a few moments to call in? Or was the matter that serious that he simply couldn't spare the time? Something that Tim would have to look into, for sure.

Ruby looked about ready to explode with excitement and joy, but that didn't quell the rising feeling of anxiousness that grew in the pit of the void walker's stomach. Something was terribly wrong; he could feel it in the air around him. It wasn't an obvious thing, more like an ominous feeling that he was missing something big… or that someone needed him but he was blind to their cries.

Tim took a deep breath, utterly ignoring the jabbering of Ruby. He needed to think on this. He needed… as much as he loathed to admit it, help. If only Rose and Kira were here with him, surely they would know what to do.

 **A/N**

 **Words fail to describe how much I hated writing the first part of this chapter, I felt incredibly guilty and actually felt a little sad for the actual Tim - despite the fact that he's a fictional character that I just made up one day. I will of course endeavour to avoid such things in the future, but sadly this time it was necessary for later plot and character development.**

 **That aside, who can guess what Ozpin is up to? it's been mentioned on and off since Tim officially became a teacher that Ozpin was busy, but so busy as to delegate the recruitment of Ruby off to Glynda? I'd say that something important is afoot.**

 **Reviews:**

 **DinomyteHero:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **GoT references are always good.**

 **Lord Of Greed 90:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Jaune, or the current Tim, is hardly a blank canvas. Although he may have forgotten, he has lived a** _ **very**_ **long life and experienced far more than the original Tim ever did. As for your theory about the weapon… well, the short answer is no. Atra Mors doesn't contain any 'part' of the original Tim.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Bear in mind that Tim fought on the side of the** _ **humans**_ **during the war, he was one of the lead generals that forced faunus into Menagerie. Tim was effectively the villain of the Arc family - all of whom bar Tim himself fought on the side of the faunus.**

 **Although Tim did this for a good reason, though for the sake of spoilers I won't say.**

 **sl0bad:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **The student reaction will be rather mixed, although that is to be expected given the reputation of Tim.**

* * *

 **As always, thanks for reading. Please remember to leave a review!**


	9. What We Fight For

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Nine

Beta: Smithrooks

What We Fight For

Tim watched through the window as the gauntlet of new students stepped out of the massive aircraft that had ferried them to Beacon. Students, both new and old, marveled at the sight of Beacon in all its glory in the light of the sun.

With eyesight sharper than any Faunus, he picked through the students. He saw ones he knew like Coco and that dumb Winchester boy, but he wasn't just idly looking. He was searching for one person in particular.

Himself.

Or the Jaune Arc from this universe anyway.

But even as the packed courtyard began to clear out, he didn't spot his much, _much_ younger self. He watched as Yang ditched Ruby, saw Blake pretend to ignore the world around her as she walked and read at the same time.

But still no Jaune. Where could he be? All records indicated that he'd be here, but if he wasn't-

A smallish explosion drew his attention, his mismatched eyes locking onto the epicenter of the Dust-fuelled detonation instantly. Ruby and the Schnee girl. Of course that would happen here too, Ruby had done much the same in his world all those years ago; but he'd never known what exactly caused the explosion. Heh, pissing off the Schnee girl already - because _that_ certainly won't backfire at all.

Good old Ruby, making other people's lives difficult with nothing but a smile and awkward conversation.

Then the smoke from the explosion cleared and Weiss barked something at Ruby, no doubt one of those fancy insults of hers. Soon the pale Schnee girl left, however, leaving Ruby alone as she slumped to the ground and muttered something to herself.

But still there was no sign of Jaune. Perhaps Tim had simply missed the boy? He'd been looking for someone with blonde hair and blue eyes after all; maybe the Jaune of this universe had dyed his hair or something.

But just as Tim began to turn away, something caught his eye. There, standing above Ruby, looked to be the person he'd been searching for. Tall, though not as tall as Tim himself, blonde hair and blue eyes. Jaune Arc. Tim let his mismatched eyes rove over his counterpart for a few moments; the similarities between them were perhaps unsurprising, but still interesting to note.

Jaune's hair was a fraction longer than Tim had ever kept his, and his face was absolutely clear and unmarred by any scars or blemishes. He wore but simple jeans and a hoodie, as well as some rather feeble-looking steel plate armour on his shoulders and upper chest. At his side Crocea Mors was strapped, the old sword sheathed within the hidden shield.

All in all… he looked normal.

He looked like any other random hunter-in-training, utterly unremarkable and totally forgettable.

Tim felt his face split into a bitter smile as he looked at what he could have been; the boy was normal, utterly unmarked by the terrors of the world around him. So totally and completely alien from Tim himself, that beyond their vague physical similarities they were entirely different.

And by god Tim would fight to keep it that way.

Jaune and Ruby had already started moving, but it was in the wrong direction. So with a nostalgic smile on his face, Tim decided that he would go greet them, and point them in the direction they were meant to be heading.

* * *

Jaune smiled as he spoke to Ruby. At first things had been awkward after using his _totally_ smooth pick up line, but then Ruby had crushed him quite thoroughly by reminding him of his motion sickness.

But he was undeterred! He had finally met someone as socially awkward as he was! And despite the feeling of crushing defeat upon realising that she could probably murder him a dozen different ways, he was determined to make a friend out of her! Or at the very least a not-enemy. Cause enemies were bad… and stuff. Yeah.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" she asked suddenly, his previous attempts at conversation dying rather quickly upon realising that no, he did _not_ know where they were going.

"Um… no?" he asked more than told her, "I was just following you."

Ruby looked panic-stricken for a moment, but before either of them could say anything else a new voice cut through the air. "There was a map back in the courtyard, you know."

Both Jaune and Ruby turned to the owner of the voice; it sounded gravelly and harsh, and yet at the same time also amused.

Ruby practically gasped upon seeing the aged and wizened form of the elderly man, her silver eyes widening further than Jaune suspected was strictly considered healthy. "You!" she shouted in surprise.

Eyes hidden under a deep, forest-green cloak seemed to roll in vague irritation. "Yes, me." Jaune could almost _taste_ the sarcasm in the voice. "I saw your explosion back there, maybe that's karma for making me explode?"

Ruby had the decency to blush at that, although the hooded man didn't look angry - more exasperated than anything else. "And what of you?" the man asked, gesturing towards Jaune. "I've met Miss Rose before, but not you. What is your name, boy?"

Jaune gulped; the man was _way_ old. That must mean he was a professor here. "I'm Jaune Arc, sir!" Jaune practically shouted, hoping that he didn't mess up the other man's first impression of him.

"An Arc, you say?" Despite his words, the man didn't actually seem surprised at all. "Interesting bunch the Arcs, terrible taste in women though." He laughed, almost a bitter ironic laugh.

What? Jaune was confused, had this man met the Arc family before? Or had he simply heard of them?

"But enough of that," the man muttered as he started hobbling away on his cane, "follow me. I will take you where you need to go."

* * *

It was something of a novelty speaking to Jaune, the silly and dreadfully optimistic way the boy carried himself amused Tim quite a bit. Maybe it was the apparent lack of a spine? Or the simple nerves that the boy showed upon seeing Tim? Either way, Tim couldn't help but laugh quietly as he led the two wayward students to where Ozpin was making his address to the student body.

As expected, Ruby babbled on and generally made a nuisance of herself. The girl had tried once again to apologise for the incident on the rooftop; he found some mild amusement in making her stress over it, but he had already forgiven her. What's an explosion or two between friends? Besides, he more than planned to make up for it when he started training all the students in his _special_ way of fighting.

"Umm… sir?" the much, _much_ younger Arc asked nervously, "What's your name?"

Ha, talk about a loaded question. He could tell the boy that he was Tim Arc right now… but it would be so much more fun to let the boy stew in it a little.

Before much else could be said, Tim felt his scroll buzz in his pocket. Feeling the mounting dread at what he was about to see he opened the device, only to be greeted by what was fast becoming the bane of his existence.

"Mensaje recibido! Glynda le gustaría saber si va a llegar pronto."

Lopez. The bloody VI that only spoke in Mistrali. He had tried for _hours_ to find a way to switch it to a language he understood, but no! The fucking thing was nearly as stubborn as he was. The worst part was that he had to _pretend_ that he understood whatever it said. Sure he could glean small nuggets of information, like how whatever it just said had something to do with Glynda. But that could mean anything!

The only reason he knew the fucking thing's name was because it repeated the word whenever he called it 'program' or 'bloody thing'.

Plastering on a very, _very_ strained look of understanding, Tim looked down at his scroll. "Thank you Lopez, Glynda can do that."

He didn't know what he just agreed to, but the image had to be maintained.

"Este mensaje será enviado inmediatamente señor."

"Wow!" Ruby exclaimed from behind him. "You speak Mistrali?"

"Isn't that language really hard?" Jaune asked as they neared the correct building.

Tim's eye twitched. The things he did… "Yes," he said shortly, "I speak Mistrali. Oh look, here is the atrium; go inside and wait like the other students."

They said their goodbyes, but Tim wasn't really listening. His irritation over Lopez was still way too fresh in his head.

Idly, Tim took note that Ruby had abandoned Jaune; the blonde boy was alone now. Eh, things will probably work out for him. Probably.

Tim stiffly made his way behind the stage where Glynda and Ozpin were, utterly ignoring the glances that students sent him as he moved through the crowd.

"Tim," Glynda greeted, "your presence isn't really required, although you and I are tasked with watching the students tonight in the ballroom."

Why the hell did Beacon have a ballroom? It was a school that taught people how to kill things, not how to dance. "Okay," Tim accepted easily despite confusion over having the room. "I'll go set up there."

* * *

Teenagers. Ugh.

Tim and Glynda were sitting in one of the corners of the large room talking quietly, the entire time they'd been here it had mostly been dull conversation as the students trickled in.

But now, only hours later, Tim and Glynda were both trying to suppress the urge to murder the idiot kids around them. The reason was pretty simple; the boys must have thought it was a great idea to have a shirtless wrestling competition to impress the girls. Worse still, some of the girls actually looked _impressed_.

But that wasn't even the worst part! Oh no, that prize went to Jaune Arc for his fluffy bunny onesie outfit. The boy showed absolutely no shame _at all_ over the travesty he was wearing. Instead, he looked sickeningly pleased with himself - almost as if he believed that others were jealous of him.

"Every year this happens…" Glynda muttered venomously from her seat, "every year I have to watch them, and every year it's the same thing…"

Poor woman, Tim actually felt a surge of pity over that small gem of information. How depressing it was; the mighty huntress Glynda Goodwitch, reduced to nothing more than a glorified babysitter to ensure that none of the dumb teenagers got frisky with one another.

And now he had the same job… ugh, was it too late to kill himself? Death seemed like a pretty attractive alternative to watching his other self make such an epic fool of himself.

The hell was wrong with that boy anyway? He looked so… pathetic. Not strong at all! Which must be bullshit, his records indicated that he'd been trained by his father and was extremely proficient with his sword and shield. And yet he seemed to lack confidence, and already Tim could tell that he was on the clumsy side of things.

There were clumsy hunters of course… but they didn't tend to live long. Tim would have to be sure to beat that clumsiness out of the boy, as well as anyone else he had to teach.

At the very least the boy must have impressive aura reserves. The Arcs were rather well known for that after all. Perhaps this iteration of Jaune simply fought by outlasting his opponents? It wasn't an invalid strategy against people, but against Grimm it would be nigh useless. Grimm didn't tire, they were a constant. You either killed them quickly or they killed you quickly.

Could it actually just be that simple? The boy using his aura to fight? Tim found himself burning with curiosity, how powerful could he actually be? He'd find out soon enough if he just waited until after they all passed initiation… but patience had never exactly been his strongest quality, he wanted to know _now._

Glynda was busy doing a sudoku book and looking thoroughly disinterested, so she probably wouldn't notice what Tim did next.

"Lopez," he whispered to his scroll, "Scan Arc, get a reading on his aura for me."

"Sí señor, la exploración ahora."

Tim grinned, he didn't understand what the fucking thing had just said, but he could see that it was activating a scanning device-

A picture of himself popped up on the screen; beneath it was a green bar and the number 20,000. Huh, he knew he had a large aura thanks both to his heritage and the upgrade, but to score twenty thousand? Fuck yeah, most fully trained hunters only ever got to about 6,000 at most. Ozpin was probably about the same as he was, and back in his home reality Cinder was probably somewhere around 100,000 after she did that bloody ritual…

The system was fairly bullshit, it was mostly just a meter of how much aura a person had at their disposal and how strong it was… something that changed with time, depending how much they exerted themselves. The older a hunter was the more powerful their aura was, but there was something to be said for young and vigorous souls like that of Ruby.

But as interesting as it was to know how powerful his aura was, it wasn't what he asked for. The stupid machine had scanned the wrong Arc, the fucking thing was just messing with him now! "Not me you idiot!" he hissed at his scroll, "the other Arc!"

"Eres un Arc, pero está bien comenzar la exploración en el otro idiota rubia."

That was a bit wordy for just saying yes, but Tim couldn't argue with the results. Within a second the image on the screen flashed and a picture of the younger Arc appeared, but what was beneath it nearly made Tim choke.

There was nothing. The bar that should have shown his surface level aura was coming up empty. That only happened for two reasons; if the subject was dead - which Tim was reasonably sure that Jaune _wasn't_ \- or if the subject hadn't had their aura unlocked.

That… _idiot_ hadn't had his aura unlocked?! WHY?! All his records said that he was a capable young fighter that was fully qualified for Beacon, and you _can't_ get into Beacon without your aura! He wouldn't even survive initiation! He'd be thrown off the cliff and then smeared across the forest floor like a bloody red pancake!

There had to something he could do to stop it. If it were any other student, bar the members of his old team, then he'd simply let natural selection run its course. But it was a family member. Disregarding the fact that he was already a kin-slayer, he really didn't want to be responsible for the death of another Arc, indirectly or not.

With a grunt, Tim forced himself to his feet. His back and leg ached terribly, but that didn't matter right now. He had to unlock his other self's aura and then somehow find a way for the boy to survive the fall…

Glynda looked at him questioningly as he moved towards where the bunny-clad Jaune was sitting, but he ignored her. Instead he grabbed the boy roughly by the back of his onesie and began dragging him away - utterly ignoring his shouts of anger and indignation. The idiot could deal with it, Tim was doing him a favor.

Tim grunted as he tossed Jaune into a nearby empty classroom. The younger boy rolled on the ground and cursed. "Ouch!" he cried as he pushed himself to his feet. "What was that for?!"

"You idiot," Tim snapped as he locked the door behind him. "Why isn't your aura unlocked?"

Jaune still looked a little angry at being manhandled, but a look of vague confusion also crossed over his features. "Aura? What's that?"

Tim actually felt his heart skip a beat, something that should have been nigh impossible with the upgrade. "You don't know what aura is?!" he demanded incredulously. How did this moron even get into the school without knowing about aura?! "How can you not know what aura is?! How did you even get into this school?!"

Jaune suddenly looked rather nervous, like a cornered animal. Ooh, Tim must have pushed a button there; maybe the idiot had forged his transcripts or something. It didn't matter now, Tim would unlock his aura and hopefully find a way for the boy to survive initiation.

"Ugh," Tim grunted in mild disgust as he took a step closer to Jaune, "Aura is your soul, and it protects you from harm until it's depleted. Now shut up, close your eyes, and concentrate as I unlock yours."

Jaune looked at him dubiously, but complied anyway.

Tim put his left hand on Jaune's head, his aura thrumming to life as he did so. What unlocking phrase should he use? He knew about a dozen of them… he wouldn't use the one Cinder used on him: _For it is in death that you awaken anew, through blood you become a hunter of beasts and mankind in search of ancient echoes. Swift in speed and tainted by blood, drown your soul, and by my word unleash thee._ That was too… dark, and would definitely have a negative effect on the boy…

But what could he use? What defined this Jaune Arc? Was he a hero? Was he a villain? Tim didn't know, but there was a simple way to find out… "Are you afraid?" He asked softly.

Jaune didn't say anything, but the slight nod of his head was all Tim needed. He was afraid… but that fear would make a good grounding for his soul. But he needed more; unlocking an aura had a subtle yet permanent effect on the recipient. It was also deeply personal, only meant to be done by those who deeply understood the person they were unlocking… "Will you be a hunter?" he asked, his voice as gentle as he could make it. No need to rattle the boy after all.

Again, Jaune nodded.

Right, okay… just one more question then he should have enough information. "Will you fight the Grimm?"

Tim almost sighed as Jaune nodded again. A hunter through and through… heh, he knew how to do it now. It wouldn't be as good as if someone who properly knew the boy did it, but Tim was reasonably sure that he had a grasp on the boy's character. Now, just to piece the words together and unchain his soul.

" _In spite of fear, you rise above all to become a martyr for the glory of others. A hunter of beasts and defender of mankind, selfless in sacrifice and bound by duty, I release your soul… and by my hand, place this burden upon you."_

Tim almost staggered back as a pure white light rolled off the younger Arc; he had a suitably large aura. Now, there was simply the matter of showing him how to survive being launched off the cliffs and into the Emerald Forest… tuck and roll perhaps?

Eh, he'll probably be fine.

 **A/N**

 **What did you guys think of this chapter? Some important stuff happened, like Jaune and Jaune meeting and Jaune getting his aura unlocked. Tell me what you all think!**

 **Also tell me what you think of that brilliant landing strategy; tuck and roll. think it would work?**

 **Reviews:**

 **Smithrooks:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Ozpin is a busy bee after all, and the arrival of Tim did shake things up a bit.**

 **Generally speaking this applies to everything I write, but more is going on than it seems. The Arc family and the history of the original Tim is pretty messed up, particularly when you get more information on them later.**

 **Tobi14:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **The Arc family of that time walks the** _ **very**_ **narrow line between training and abuse, but personally I found it difficult to write because I find it abhorrent.**

 **Tabris the 17th angle:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Ozpin isn't taking anything laying down, but he is… gathering allies, so to speak.**

 **Tim's reasoning behind being on the human side of the war wasn't because he particularly agreed with what the humans were doing - it was more of a means to an end.**

* * *

 **Merry Christmas, and don't forget to leave a review!**


	10. Somebody I Used to Know

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Ten

Beta: Smithrooks

Somebody I Used to Know

It was cold.

Rose and Kira had just spent the last two days running, the entire time locked into a dead sprint so they could escape… _whatever_ that _thing_ was.

The terrible voice had hounded them across the icy hellhole for miles, the deep reverberating sound making their bones shudder and their bodies shake. It had said terrible things… lures of power, promises of things that they both knew were utterly impossible.

They had ignored it of course; no doubt all it had to say were lies. The beast believed itself to be the devil, so logically speaking it would have no issue with lying to them to get whatever it wanted. Though for some reason it seemed oddly fixated on Jaune, calling him names like 'voidwalker' and 'old one'. But they had ignored it all and just kept running.

But now… they could run no further.

The two girls and their crazy AI companion were huddled as far in a little cave as they could, the bitterly cold winds still blowing through their bodies and chilling their bones as they tried to coax some warmth from the ice around them.

They had stopped running because they literally could go no further. They had hit the edge of the island, and were now just a few short metres away from the ocean.

Of course, any hunter worth their salt could run on water for short distances, but an ocean? Not a chance. They'd either freeze to death or drown long before they came anywhere close to the nearest inhabited landmass.

And even assuming they managed to escape the shitty island they were on now - which was practically impossible without outside help - then the closest inhabited area was Menagerie! And that was such a shithole that they were probably better off staying in the Frost Fangs. At least if they died here, they knew their bodies wouldn't be desecrated and all their belongings taken.

"What are we going to do?" Kira demanded as she huddled closer to Rose for warmth. "We can't stay here."

"I know," Rose muttered as she fumbled around with the projector for the AI, "Delta, is there any way off this island?"

The green logic fragment of her Solus snapped into life, his image hazy and distorted by the winds. "I have located the Alpha," he announced, utterly ignoring the question he was asked, "we must make haste to Vale so we can reacquire him."

While it was indeed brilliant news to hear that their blonde idiot was still alive and kicking, it didn't exactly help their current situation. "Great," Kira snapped sarcastically, "now how do we get to him?"

The image of Delta seemed to ponder that for a moment, but in the end he settled on, "There appears to be an ocean nearby; boats are used for traversing oceans. Acquire a boat."

Rose nearly tossed the damn AI into the ocean in frustration. Normally Delta was much more useful, but sometimes Solus' deep-rooted love for sarcasm seeped into every aspect of his insane AI - logic and reason included. Worse still because Delta wasn't actually _wrong_ , he was just being an arse about it.

"Not helping Delta!" Rose hissed. Why couldn't she have one of the nicer fragments helping her? Epsilon was usually fairly helpful, so were Zeta and Theta - which were jealousy and trust respectively. "Delta, change now!" the time traveller grouched finally, "A different fragment! NOW!"

The deep forest-green that was Delta seemed to shatter and distort, the colour changing until it was one the things that Rose had been hoping for. In all his purple glory stood Zeta, jealousy and envy given awareness and intelligence in the form of the fragments. "You were always more talented than me," he hissed, "but I won in the end! I finally beat you! Now I am the best!"

Kira rolled her eyes as she stared at the program; this fragment was narcissistic to a fault. But that just meant that it was easy to play him. "Yes, you _were_ the best Zeta."

Both Rose and Kira had to suppress a grin when his form flashed a violent purple. It was working. "But there's a man in Vale who thinks that he's better than you. We can't let that stand, now can we?"

Zeta wasn't exactly the most intelligent of fragments, but he was one of the more powerful ones. Easy to manipulate too. "What?! That isn't fair!" he cried, "he got a head start, he's in Vale already! It isn't right! If only I were in Vale!"

Rose quickly latched onto that particular train of thought. "Yes, if only we were in Vale, then you could show this man who's the best!" It was all a lie of course; Zeta was a moron and would never show anyone up now that he was just an AI. But appeasing him would secure his help. "How do we get to Vale, Zeta?"

The purple form of Zeta flickered for a moment, his energy chaotic and wild. "The fastest way would be through Fort Hagen!" Zeta hissed, "Hurry puny mortal, I cannot allow some upstart to think themselves the best!"

Fort Hagen? Where the hell was that? Who would build a fort in a place like this? "Where is Fort Hagen?" Kira demanded, quickly losing her already fickle patience.

Zeta began to shift, his deep, purple-coloured image changing into the memory fragment of Epsilon. "Fort Hagen is the military base less than 40 kilometres from here. It was established in the early days of the Faunus War as a-"

"Unimportant," Kira cut him off, "does it have transportation that we can use?"

Epsilon shifted to Iota, the fragment of joy and happiness. "Yes!" he cackled, "Inventory files indicate that there is one small boat still within the facility prepped and ready for use!"

Rose herself couldn't help but snort in amusement at what Iota had said. It was no secret that Kira and boats didn't mix - that was like saying water was wet. The physically younger girl got seasick quite easily, her face turning a peculiar shade of green before she started blowing chunks.

"Fuck both of you," Kira groaned, her stomach already feeling uneasy just from thinking about being in a boat.

Iota grinned manically, "You first, baby!"

"Come on," Rose muttered as she pushed herself to her feet, "we need to leave before the beast finds us."

Kira continued glaring daggers at her only companion. "I'm going to vomit on you for this."

Rose didn't say anything; if the little twerp did that then she'd be tossed into the ocean.

A slight grin crossed Rose's face at the thought, now that was funny.

But they had to get there first.

* * *

Jaune Arc was freaking out.

Last night that slightly creepy old teacher had unlocked his aura for him - something he hadn't known existed until the old man showed him - and he had felt like he was on the top of the world… for all of three seconds until the teacher had explained what exactly initiation would be.

Jaune didn't want to be a pancake!

At the time Jaune had thought himself to be so utterly screwed that he might as well go home! Something that he had sworn to himself that he would never do unless he became a full huntsman. But then the questionably sane/nice man had given him a plan to survive being launched from the cliffs.

It was a dumb plan, an utterly idiotic and retarded plan… and it would make him look like a moron. Jaune himself didn't think it would work… but the old guy had seemed rather pleased with himself when he had come up with it, and sure that it would save his life - even if it was at the expense of his already shriveled and dead pride anyway.

But hey, Jaune would choose being alive with no pride over being dead any day.

As it was, Jaune stood on one of the metal launch pads that were set to either send him on his path as a great hunter… or send him to a distinctly flatter death than he had ever expected.

"Are there any questions?" Ozpin asked as he finished his little speech. The bastard didn't wait to see if anyone did have any questions however, "Good, take your positions everyone."

Jaune felt his legs quiver. Was he really ready for this? He could die here… of course he had known that anyway, he was just some idiot who stole a sword - not a real hunter. But now it all just seemed so much more… real.

Down the line, people began to be launched off, and once more Jaune felt himself shake.

No! He wouldn't be afraid anymore! He had a plan! A questionable plan, but a plan nonetheless! He would survive this and become a hunter - a hero!

The dastardly launch pad beneath his feet gave an ominous click, the gears within no doubt shifting into position. Hardly a second later, Jaune suddenly found himself careening through the air at tremendous speeds.

The wind rushed past his face; his eyes felt dry and his throat parched. But he prepared himself for the most crucial part of the plan. One deep breath, then another…

And then with one last gulp of air, Jaune implemented the master plan: "OH GOD HELP MEEEE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'M SO SCARED! AHH! I'M GOING TO DIE!"

Perhaps it wasn't the most dignified of ways to go about this, but the creepy old man had assured Jaune that the 'stupid little girls' would help him if he seemed suitably pathetic and needy. Jaune himself hadn't really been sold on the idea, but then the creepy old man had explained what his plan B was…

Jaune didn't think any amount of tucking or rolling would save him from a fall this big…

Yeah, Jaune liked plan A better…

Again and again he screamed, his throat beginning to ache as he cried out. But just as Jaune was starting to believe that he was in fact going to die a squishy red death, he found his salvation. Or rather, his salvation found him…

* * *

Tim laughed deeply as he stared at the video image on his scroll, his gut almost beginning to ache from the shuddering howls of amusement.

The Emerald Forest was filled with cameras, enough that he could watch all of initiation comfortably from the chairs in his rooms. Is this what the teachers did in his universe when he had initiation? The thought was amusing enough; Oobleck probably gagged on his coffee when the green-haired bastard saw what Solus had done to the Deathstalker and Nevermore. Ah, the joys of teaching. Tim already felt himself to be quite good at it actually.

His master plan had worked, and his wimpy counterpart had survived the easiest part of initiation.

The Pyrrha Nikos of this world was just as much of a soft touch as he remembered, and in Jaune's moment of need she had provided the solution that Tim had needed to save Jaune's life. Granted, she had done it at the expense of Jaune's already questionable dignity and masculinity by _literally_ nailing him to a tree with her spear - but that just made it funnier!

And now the strongest and weakest first years were partnered together… all because of Tim's own plotting too! It was brilliant really, plotting and scheming had always been more of Kira's thing; but if he had known that it would be this easy, then he would have gotten into it ages ago.

A great upside to Jaune and Pyrrha being partners was that Tim could probably just con the girl into giving the boy lessons on proper sword use, that way when Tim was training Jaune they could work on the more important things… like dodging. So much dodging…

Tim watched on in thinly veiled interest as Pyrrha guided Jaune through the woods towards their destination at the northern end of the forest. He could tell the two hadn't met before this, because she showed only polite disinterest so far. That would change soon enough of course; when she found out that Jaune was a clueless idiot and had no idea of who exactly she was, Pyrrha would probably lock onto the boy as tightly as she could.

He had planned it out so well for either Ruby or Pyrrha to save Jaune, both were the only two that would really go out of their way to help him when in such a perilous situation themselves. Ruby probably would have been the easier one to manipulate since Tim already knew what exactly made her tick. But Pyrrha… she would be best for Jaune.

Unlike Ruby, Pyrrha could help Tim in training Jaune; show him how to _properly_ use a sword and shield - something that Tim himself could never do. And the Spartan girl was just as caring as Ruby was, but it was tempered by knowledge and experience with the world around them, unlike Ruby's blind optimism and naivety.

Tim couldn't help but cringe as Jaune led Pyrrha into what was obviously a Deathstalker lair. To her credit Pyrrha did try to protest, but Jaune seemed so sure that the relic was in the cave.

Tim was thus unsurprised when only a moment later the cave practically exploded outwards, with Pyrrha sprinting away as fast as she could while the questionably sane Jaune hung from the Deathstalker's stinger.

Was the boy an idiot? Or was he just extremely brave? Both were pretty much the same thing for an Arc, but even that didn't excuse the epic level of general stupidity that Tim was currently watching.

Jaune was, luckily for him, flung away over the forest as soon as the Grimm scorpion had enough of his shit. The blonde idiot would survive the fall for sure this time; worst-case scenario, he landed on his head and then somehow got even dumber - but considering just how thickheaded Jaune was already, Tim didn't think that was likely.

A moment later, the elder Arc was proven correct when he crashed into Ruby mid-air - ignoring the _epic stupidity_ on how exactly Ruby got there - and then the two crashed into a tree.

Pyrrha was still running with the Deathstalker on her tail, but that was okay because she was heading towards the actual ruins where nearly all of Tim's old… acquaintances… were.

Teams PRWN and RSYB… could he actually call them friends? Pyrrha had tried so hard to be kind to him back during his first life. Sure, she may have been annoying at times, but she was like a more mature Ruby. Nora had been crazy without a doubt; maybe the others hadn't noticed, but she was actually a very sad person - she just hid it all behind a veneer of impossible cheer and joy. Ren had been… quiet. The boy was much like Nora really, though he chose to vent his grief at life in different ways. Weiss… for the longest of times, Solus had hated her simply because she was a Schnee, because of what her father had done. But in hindsight… Tim didn't hate her. She was snotty, arrogant and a brat - but that was just because of the cushy way she was brought up, not because she was evil or malicious.

So perhaps he hadn't really been 'friends' with team PRWN, but they had been friends with Yang, Ruby and Blake, so maybe they counted as friends by extension.

He had counted Ruby as a friend though. He may have been cruel to her at times… but that girl truly had been the bright spark that lit up his dark and miserable life. And when Rose came into the picture… what a complicated woman she had been. She was still Ruby - even he could see that - but she had been scarred so terribly by the world around her, rather like him in a way.

Yang… she had been tricky. The blonde girl harbored a deep love for her younger sister - something that Solus hadn't fully understood at the time, but now he saw and respected her for it. All the times he and Yang had fought, it had been over Ruby. She was just trying to protect her sister, to make sure that he didn't go too far when he was training her. They had been friends in the end at least, perhaps not like he was with Ruby, but he knew that Yang would always protect Ruby from the world even after he had passed on.

Blake was a reminder of what he had been. He tried so hard to move on from what he had done at Fort Independence, but then he had met the Faunus girl. She was still so stuck in the misery that he had caused for so many… she had been rightfully angry and bitter about what had happened, and when he 'died' she probably never forgave him. But there had been some good times too; while Ruby and Yang had always been pushing him to tell them about his life, Blake had been good because she had never asked, and he knew that she wouldn't judge him for not saying anything.

So yes, team RSYB had been friends. Odd and dysfunctional, for sure, but friends.

Tim focussed on the screen once more, but he was disappointed to see that he had missed the fight. He must have been spaced out while the eight teens fought the Deathstalker and Nevermore. A pity, but he could watch it all later. They all seemed well enough, though Jaune and Ren looked rather worn out.

Teams would certainly be odd though; his scroll said that Ren and Nora were partners and had the matching piece with Jaune and Pyrrha. The same was true for Weiss and Ruby having the matching piece with Yang and Blake. What would that make the teams? No doubt Pyrrha would be the leader of the first team, so what would that be? PJNR? NAVL? Weird. But Ruby would probably get team leader again, so what… RWBY? Nah, Ozpin wouldn't let a team be named exactly after its leader…

Probably…

 **A/N**

 **So for the sake of confusion, below this I'm gonna write out a list of all the AI 'fragments' and their appearances from Rose's timeline. If you have any questions feel free to PM me.**

 **Omega: The fragment of rage and hatred, his aura (and thus his colour as a AI) was a chaotic grey. The second strongest fragment out of them all, though not terribly intelligent.**

 **Sigma: Ambition and creativity, his aura was a violently flickering red that resembled fire. Third strongest fragment, as well as easily being the most cunning. Roughly tied for second in terms of intelligence. Was perfectly happy to do even the most morally repugnant things to achieve his goals.**

 **Delta: Reason and logic, his aura was a dark forest green. Fourth strongest fragment, though disliked fighting in general. Roughly tied with Sigma in terms of intelligence.**

 **Iota: Happiness and joy, his aura was a greenish blue. Fifth strongest fragment, took great amusement in the suffering of others and the pain he caused. His only intelligence was the wit he displayed in macabre humour.**

 **Theta: Trust and faith, his aura was a deep navy blue. Sixth strongest fragment, spent more time shouting over perceived betrayals than actually fighting. Surprisingly one of the more intelligent fragments.**

 **Gamma: Deceit and lies, his aura was an extremely pale blue. Literally everything he ever said was a lie. Seventh strongest fragment, easily one of the dumber ones as well.**

 **Epsilon: Memory, his aura was light blue - though still darker than Gamma. Enjoyed telling stories about his life, and was excellent at demoralizing enemy as he often told stories about their family's deaths at his hands. Eight strongest fragment, only Sigma, Delta and Alpha were above Epsilon in terms of intelligence.**

 **Eta: Fear and sorrow, his aura was bright yellow. Spent the vast majority of his time weeping and screaming for help. Ninth strongest fragment, though he spent more time avoiding fighting than anything else. Extremely intelligent, only a fraction below Epsilon.**

 **Zeta: Envy and jealousy, his aura was a royal purple. Always inclined to prove his status as the best at everything, and showed extreme anger (often shifting to Omega) if bested at something. Tenth strongest fragment, though is arguably the least intelligent fragment.**

 **Beta: Failure, his aura was a inky black. Literally everything Beta tried to do he would fail at, due either to his own incompetence or sheer dumb luck. Weakest fragment, though also reasonably intelligent.**

 **Alpha: Success/fusion, his aura was pure white. Only appeared once, and when he disappeared he took most of Vale and Cinder Fall with him. By far the strongest and smartest fragment.**

 **Reviews:**

 **Guest:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **Thanks! I tried my hardest!**

 **Smithrooks:**

 **Thanks for reviewing.**

 **I don't any amount of tucking or rolling would save Jaune from that, though I daresay that it might actually be preferable to what plan A was for poor old Jaune.**

 **And yeah; the problem of Jaune knowing about aura was solved pretty quickly by Tim once he knew about it. Though it had an interesting effect already; when Tim told Jaune about both aura and initiation he sent the younger boy into a panic - enough so that Jaune didn't attempt to speak with Weiss and subsequently Pyrrha prior to initiation. This was shown** _ **very**_ **briefly during Tim's introspection on Pyrrha being politely distant to Jaune.**

 **Oh and Ozpin makes an appearance, finally.**

* * *

 **Thanks again for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!**


	11. To the Beginning

Edge of Life: Requiem

Chapter Eleven

Beta: Smithrooks

To the Beginning

The assembled students who had just completed initiation filed into the large room slowly, their bodies weary and tired after spending hours in the Emerald Forest fighting off Grimm. All the other students of the school were already seated in the back rows as they waited to see the new teams be formed by the headmaster.

Tim stood alongside other members of the staff, off to the side of the stage. Ozpin was quietly talking to Glynda as he prepared to make his address, Oobleck and Port were arguing about something and all the other staff members just stood around and tried not to look too bored.

Although that was hardly a problem for Tim; he was still deeply, deeply amused by the piece of information that Glynda had just told all the faculty members: apparently the school doctor had resigned in a fit of anger over his latest assault within the school. Doctor Rendon Howe had been screaming bloody murder over _someone_ knocking him out several nights ago and this time the only possible culprits were other staff members - all this was of course one of the funniest things Tim had heard since coming to this shithole of a universe, made all the better because no one suspected him. Meaning he could stir the pot as much as he wanted.

So Beacon was down its only doctor, but that was okay. Tim didn't think that his pansy students would need a doctor. He planned on teaching them how to be tough, not like the little whiners from his universe. They might _say_ that they needed a doctor, but Tim himself was a practiced hand at both removing and reattaching limbs. Granted, he had never reattached _someone else's_ limbs before, but they didn't need to know that.

Hmm… his teaching would also probably be good for showing the kids emergency first aid. He _did_ plan on breaking their bodies just as much as their spirits after all; and besides, what are a few dozen broken bones between friends anyway?

"Can Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long please come to the stage?"

The voice of Ozpin snapped Tim out of his thoughts of his new teaching career; the old bastard was already on the stage with his greatest friend and ally: coffee. Not that he could blame Ozpin of course; coffee was of vital importance to any normal person's life. Without that glorious elixir of happiness and energy, Tim probably would have killed himself years ago.

The painfully opposing colour scheme of the four girls in question made their way onto the stage before Ozpin, their faces tired but still bright as the four sets of eyes stared at their new headmaster.

"You four collected the white knight pieces," the old man announced, his voice calm and level, "so henceforth, you will be known as team RWBY, led by Miss Ruby Rose!"

The hall burst into the expected applause. It was more polite clapping so it could all be done quickly, rather than genuine interest in the four girls that were now making their way off the stage. But Tim knew that would change, soon enough; he would craft _all_ of his students into the best fighters possible. Team RWBY would probably go down in history after he was done with them; each girl was already naturally talented and skilled, but he would make them so much _more._

The Schnee girl looked about ready to explode in anger, although Tim could admit that he couldn't exactly blame the girl for that. Ruby was a nice girl with good intentions, but she had the tactical mind of a five year old on acid. Why Ozpin put the younger girl in charge was a mystery; why not Weiss, when she was easily the most well adjusted member of the team? Well, perhaps well adjusted wasn't exactly the right way to say it. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that she is the least likely to get the entire team killed doing something epically stupid, like fighting an Atlesian Paladin or something.

If this was just because Ozpin couldn't think of a good team name that started with W or S, then Tim's already low opinion of the nutty old headmaster was going to lower even further. At least he wasn't putting Yang in charge though, that would have been a disaster on a level that Tim could hardly comprehend. Even Blake was a better choice than Yang; disregarding that the Faunus girl would either get herself or all of them killed fighting a battle they couldn't win, Blake would at least attempt to get the other three to _do_ something. Yang would probably just declare every day to be a team holiday.

That, or a team hair-care day.

Or both.

"Can Cardin Winchester, Russel Thrush, Dove Bronzewing and Sky Lark please come to the stage?"

Oh god, those idiots. Tim himself hadn't exactly had much interaction with them during his own time at Beacon, but from what he could recall they just spent their time picking on the more pathetic and weak-willed students that wouldn't fight back. He vaguely recalled beating Cardin up in a spar, but other than that nothing of any particular note came to mind. Maybe they were just doomed to be the most mundane team amongst all the first years. Meh, he would turn them into SS class hunters like everyone else.

"You four collected the black bishop pieces," Ozpin declared, his face passive but his posture showing his mild disinterest, "and henceforth you will be known as team CRDL, led by Mister Cardin Winchester!"

Hmm… looks like Cardin got leader again, good for him. Who knows, maybe this time he won't be a racist arse?

"Can Rabbit Lenton, Arthur Masters, David Seaman and Patrick Moore please come to the stage?"

Oh god… Tim had completely forgotten about that team.

"You four collected the black knight pieces," Ozpin announced, his lack of enthusiasm clear to anyone looking closely enough, "and henceforth you will be known as team RADM, led by Miss Rabbit Lenton!"

Team RADM, or Radium, had been a rather mixed package back when Tim had been at Beacon. The leader, Rabbit Lenton, was a seemingly airheaded girl with blonde hair that went down to her shoulders and only ever wore pink things. She also had a rather scary obsession with bumblebees. Distantly, Tim recalled a time long ago that he sent the girl into a panic when he ruthlessly murdered one of her beloved yellow and black friends.

Arthur Masters was a tool and a smart arse, but he was still like any other hunter-in-training. Always 'doing the right thing no matter the cost' kind of deal, even if it was stupid and boring.

David Seaman was the guy that Tim had bought all his drugs from back in the day; he was a tiny little guy that was actually rather pathetic. He was a moron through and through, he was even ugly to boot, though for some reason he did manage to have quite a few friends.

Patrick Moore was an arsehole, a total prick that Tim had held a mild disdain for back when he was a student. The fat bastard was just a tool - but not the useful kind.

Together… they made the worst team in Beacon.

And he had to teach them…

Was it too late to kill himself?

"Can Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie please come to the stage?"

Huh, so that would be the team the young Arc would be on? No doubt Pyrrha would be the leader, given her skill level and experience and all. Nora was totally incapable of any tactical thought beyond 'hit that' or 'kill them' so she was easily out, that and if she were leader then the entire team would probably have to leave Beacon from obesity problems borne from too many pancakes. Ren was too quiet; the boy was entitled to his silence when he and others weren't in a life or death situation, but during a fight he needed to speak up. Jaune… the boy was an idiot. There was no way around that particularly embarrassing fact. Worse still was his shameful weakness; if Tim hadn't found him and unlocked his aura, then the simpleton would likely have died in initiation.

It was for those reasons that Pyrrha must be the team leader. She was easily the most powerful first year, and her tactical mind would be a great asset for any team. She would also prove to be an excellent partner for the Arc boy, she could teach him technique whereas Tim could only teach power.

"You four collected the black bishop pieces," Ozpin said, his eyes peering at Jaune with great interest, "so henceforth, you will be known as team JNPR, led by Mister Jaune Arc!"

WHAT?!

Why would Ozpin do that?! Jaune's performance during initiation cleared showed that the boy was practically worthless in a fight, and whatever tactical use he currently had didn't extend far beyond 'bullet soak' or 'meat shield'. So why did Ozpin put him as the team leader?! Now Tim would need to spend even more time than he had already planned making the boy into something worthwhile, provided the idiot didn't choke on his own drool or something.

The hall clapped for a few moments, but soon the applause ended when Ozpin raised his hand to signal for silence. The entire hall looked at their headmaster, all the students waiting to be dismissed and all the staff waiting for the coming announcement.

"Students of Beacon," Ozpin began, his gaze roaming over the assembled students from first year all the way to those in their final year of education. "This year we have been… blessed… with a new combat instructor, no doubt all of you have heard of his exploits and skill. But I ask you all to remain calm and seated as I introduce him…"

Oh good, Ozpin was going to just get it right out there was he? That would certainly save Tim some trouble; get all the haters and admirers to show their stances quickly, so he didn't have to watch everyone himself. Slowly, Tim began hobbling towards the stage, the cane form of Atra Mors making gentle clicks on the hard floor as he walked.

The students seemed confused as Ozpin spoke, and Tim couldn't help but smirk - he was about to make waves after all.

"May I introduce, Professor Tim Arc!"

Tim finally stepped onto the stage and moved towards the microphone, his grin still in place as the vast majority of students gaped at him in shock and surprise.

But the moment of mild calm was shattered when the hall broke into noise; about a third of the students shouting in outrage and anger, another third clapping wildly and cheering, and all the leftovers just sitting in silence with their expressions stony and unreadable.

About what Tim had expected then.

"Hello," The old Arc said simply into the microphone, "As Headmaster Ozpin just said, I am Tim Arc. I will be teaching combat and fighting for the foreseeable future; soon many of you will come to hate me, but rest assured that one day you will thank me and my teachings for saving your pathetic lives."

No one had ever accused Tim of being a master at winning friends and influence. Tact was perhaps one of his weaker traits… but that was okay. The anger and hatred of the students would push them all into new heights of power - something that he could use.

Without another word Tim left the stage, his cane making a gentle click on the hardwood floor as he moved away from the crowd of students and back into the shadows.

He had an idiot to contact after all.

* * *

 _Building 'red' second floor, third door on the right. Knock twice and then enter. Don't keep family waiting._

Jaune stared at the message on his scroll, his sapphire blue eyes burning into the device as his mind ran a thousand miles a minute.

Tim Arc. Jaune had grown up like any Arc of the last 80 years, hearing stories of the black sheep of the family. Tim was easily the greatest cautionary tale Jaune had ever heard - someone beneath both pity and anger. The legacy of Tim was beneath that of a pariah among the Arcs, he was a stain on their heroic bloodline and a stain on humanity as a whole.

And now… this man was Jaune's combat instructor.

The message was obviously from the elder Arc, and the instructions were clear enough. But what did he want? Like his sisters and parents before him, Jaune had been taught a pretty extensive history of who and what exactly Tim Arc had been; cruel and ruthless, always working with an ulterior motive of some kind. So knowing that he wanted to meet Jaune… Tim was no doubt planning something.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha questioned, her green gaze locked onto Jaune as he stared at his scroll. "Jaune? Did you know that Tim Arc would be teaching here?"

Her voice was obviously kept calm and level, but Jaune knew it was a deception. Jaune had seen the reaction of his new teammates when the new Professor Arc had made his debut; Ren and Nora seemed surprised but otherwise indifferent, but Pyrrha had shown _admiration_.

How she could admire the evil man Jaune had no idea; and frankly, at this point he didn't care. Pyrrha and the others… he needed to just get away and deal with the problem at hand.

"I… need to go for a walk," Jaune announced, utterly ignoring his partner's question. "I'll see you guys later…"

Ren and Nora were kind enough not to say anything beyond a simple goodbye, but Pyrrha didn't seem to want Jaune to leave before she could grill him for more information. "Wait Jaune, I just-"

Jaune didn't listen, without a word spoken he shut the door to his new dorm room and stepped into the well light corridor.

Across from him was the door to team RWBY's room; with the exception of Weiss, they had been kind enough not to even mention their new professor to him. The Schnee girl had spent the entire trip from the hall to their dorms grilling Jaune for information on Tim - not that he had given her any though. Blake had looked at him rather disdainfully, but beyond that things were pretty much quiet with the all-girls team.

Jaune walked silently down the corridor, his mind hardly paying any attention to where he was walking. Should he go meet his… uncle? Grand-uncle? Great grand-uncle? Jaune and everyone else in the main line of the Arc family were descended from Julius Arc - the younger brother of Tim who died quite some time ago.

But… Jaune wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with whatever Tim had in store for him. Sure, the man had been kind enough to guide Jaune and Ruby to where Ozpin was making his opening speech, and even kind enough to unlock Jaune's aura… but that had been before Jaune knew who he was. Before knew they were related.

Could it have been done out of some ulterior motive? If so, what? Or had it actually just been done out of the kindness of his heart? Jaune knew plenty of history regarding Tim, but he didn't know much about what the man had been like as a person. He hadn't thought he'd needed to know. Tim Arc had been reported missing just after his trial in Vacuo about a month after the war had ended. Beyond that… nothing. He was never heard from again, and considering that he was about 50 years old at the time… well, the general assumption had been that he'd just found some tropical island somewhere and passed on from his old age some time in the last 80 years. He'd be about 140 years old now, which isn't _impossible_ for some hunters, it just wasn't _likely_.

Without even realising it, Jaune found himself standing outside a plain wooden door, his blue eyes staring at the wood like it was cursed with something foul.

A quick glance at his surroundings confirmed he was in the 'red' building, and another glance showed that he was on the second floor standing before the third door on the right. Just like the message had instructed.

Damn, he hadn't even been thinking and already he had betrayed himself.

Well… there was no point in backing out now, he was already at the door. Might as well get it all over and done with.

Following the instructions given in the message, Jaune knocked on the door loudly twice, and then entered.

Instantly, Jaune was assaulted by a thick smoky smell; it hung in the air like a miserable reminder of what exactly Jaune was going to do here. As he stepped further in the smell got thicker, but Jaune ignored it in favour of looking around. The plush red carpet was in steep contrast to the old and thin carpet in the student dorms, and everything looked new and rather nice compared to the slightly used and worn quality that everything held in the student area.

And sitting in the middle of it all on an overstuffed lounge chair was Tim Arc himself, his mismatched eyes peering at Jaune with startling intensity as he puffed away on a thick brown cigar.

The two Arcs didn't say anything for a moment. Three blue eyes met, and a single fake red eye perpetually glared.

"You're late, boy."

And just like that the silence was shattered as Tim spoke, his voice harsh and guttural just as it had been every time Jaune had heard him speak.

Jaune didn't say anything, his ocean blue eyes staring at his 'uncle' with an almost blank look. What was the point in speaking after all? Obviously Tim wanted something, otherwise he wouldn't have called Jaune here.

"You don't have anything to say?" the elder Arc said between puffs of his cigar, "I expected you to ask how I am still alive, or accuse me of being old…" he muttered.

Still Jaune was silent.

A few moments of tranquility passed, neither Arc bothering to say anything as it grew dark outside.

But finally Tim spoke again, this time his voice softer than it had been before. "Peter Port gave me a whole box full of Mistrali cigars… it's the first gift anyone has given me in years."

The previous tension the room bled out a bit at the soft-spoken words, and Jaune felt his shoulders unwind a little. The look on Tim's deeply scarred face was one of melancholy ingrained for many years.

"Sit down Jaune," Tim gestured to the nearby couch, his mismatched eyes not looking at the younger boy. "We have a lot to discuss."

"What do you want?" the question slipped out of Jaune's mouth without him even thinking about it, his hands clapping over his lips a second later for the disrespect he had just shown a teacher.

"Sit," Professor Arc commanded, utterly ignoring the question in favour of his order.

Jaune did as he was bid, his weary body sinking into the chair with little resistance on his part - though his eyes never left the hunched form of Tim as he puffed his cigar from his own chair.

"You are untrained." It wasn't a question; the elder Arc was simply making a statement. But there was no condemnation in his voice either; it was as plain as commenting on the weather.

But Jaune also knew that he couldn't confirm that. If he admitted that, then he might as well be confirming that his transcripts were false. All his records indicated that Jaune was at least a competent fighter, but obviously Tim had begun to see through that particular lie. "N-No," Jaune stuttered, "I was trained by my family."

Tim merely raised one of his scarred eyebrows as he looked at Jaune, the disbelief clear on his face. "No hunter would teach you to act the way you did during initiation, and no hunter would forget to unlock your aura." A small smirk etched its way onto the scarred man's face, "that, and your transcripts are forged."

Jaune nearly choked in shock. How could he possibly know?! Jaune had been meticulous when he arranged the transcripts, no expense had been spared… how could Tim have found out? This would mean Jaune's expulsion for sure, probably some prison time for the high-class forgery too. What would his parents do when they found out that their only son was in jail? Oh god, what would his sisters do?

"Relax boy," the professor chuckled roughly, "you won't be expelled or anything like that. Only I know."

"Please don't tell anyone," Jaune practically begged, "becoming a hunter is something I've dreamed of ever since I knew what the Grimm were, it's the only thing I want to do with my life!"

Tim flicked the ashes of his cigar into a grey ashtray, his mismatched eyes finally settling onto Jaune for the first time since he had sat down. "Why?"

"Why?" Jaune asked, "Why what?"

The red and blue eyes peered at Jaune like he was an idle curiosity, but also nothing more than a fly to be swatted away if it became irritating. "You say you want to be a hunter, why?"

Jaune held his head up high, "For honour and glory, I will become a knight to save the world and defend mankind."

Tim sighed deeply, his eyes leaving Jaune and looking out the window and into the night sky. "Then you will die."

Jaune's gaze snapped to his counterpart, blue eyes wary but also confused. "What? Explain."

"No. Honour, glory… there's really no point in speaking to a killer who extols the virtues of such things."

Jaune rose to his feet, his blue eyes burning with indignation as he stared at his professor. "I have killed no one, and how dare you insult chivalry!"

But Tim was utterly calm in the face of Jaune's anger, his eyes still far away. "A knight cannot save the world. Knights call certain methods of fighting good, and others evil," a mirthless chuckle slipped past his lips. "They act as if there were some sacred nobility to the battlefield. Such illusions created by heroes and hunters throughout history have led countless young men and women to their bloody deaths - all for the sake of this 'glory' and 'honour' they all extol."

But Jaune was unconvinced. What Tim was saying couldn't be true! Honour and glory _did_ exist! Jaune knew they did. "They are not illusions!" the younger Arc barked, "even the taking of a life in battle as the act of a human being must have ideals! Otherwise every war would bring the very fires of hell to this world!" Sure that was a little melodramatic, but the point was there. Behind each and every fight that ended in death, there needed to be some kind of noble or just reason. _Something_ that made the distinction between good and evil.

"And there it is." Tim finally looked at Jaune once more, one calm blue eye offset by the perpetually glaring red eye. "Your _heroic spirit_ considers a battlefield better than hell."

Tim closed his eyes for just a second, but then when he opened them his face was twisted hatefully. "What a joke. A true battlefield is hell itself!" There was such livid anger on his face that Jaune almost took a step backwards, though he only barely managed to stop himself. "There is no hope to be had on one, nothing but unspeakable despair - just the soulless cry we call victory, paid for by the pain of the defeated." Tim looked so angry, so _furious,_ that Jaune suddenly felt like a very small child once again.

"But humanity has never recognized this truth," the elder man snarled, "and the reason is that in every era a dazzling _hero_ has blinded the people with their legends. Because of this, true human nature has not advanced a step beyond the _stone age!_ "

Jaune didn't know what to say. What Tim had just told him… it couldn't be true. Everything that Jaune had learnt growing up told him otherwise. It just _couldn't_ be true. But what made Tim this way? All his fury wasn't directed at Jaune in the slightest, the white-hot anger was a general thing.

But the anger seemed to bleed away just as fast as it came, leaving a cold and lonely feeling in the room that only moments ago had felt too hot and too small. "Justice and righteousness cannot save the world; if you wish to survive as a hunter, then you should care nothing for such things."

"Don't you understand?" Jaune whispered weakly as he sat back down, "If you do evil to stop evil, then that rage and hatred will give rise to new conflict."

"Perhaps," Tim murmured, "but my time for such things has passed. You on the other hand, need training if you ever wish to survive your time at Beacon, let alone the outside world."

Instantly, Jaune was against what Tim was hinting at; he had to do this on his own. And he would _not_ accept help from anyone, let alone someone like _this_. "No way, I will do this myself."

Tim smirked nastily, his face showing his malicious amusement. "I wasn't offering, _boy_. Tomorrow afternoon is the first official combat class for all first year students; after that ends, you will be staying behind and we will have a private session, just you and I."

"No!" Jaune practically shouted, "I don't need your help, this is something I have to do myself!"

In an instant Jaune found himself locked into a iron grip from the elderly man, the gnarled hand clamping around the front of his hoodie and dragging Jaune to the same level as the seated man. "Listen carefully shitstain, I don't _care_ about your stupid pride. Either you accept my teachings starting from tomorrow afternoon, or Ozpin finds out about your false records and you get kicked out of this school and back to your piddling little village."

Jaune couldn't move or breathe until the hand tossed him to the floor, but even then he was in shock. Why was Tim doing this? Some demented mental image of family? Or some convoluted sense that he was doing Jaune a favour?

"Now get out of my rooms, shitstain," the elder man growled.

Jaune was all too happy to comply.

 **A/N**

 **I have bad news… This story is going on hiatus.**

 **I know this is really shitty of me to do just as things were getting interesting, but I have reasons for this. I write purely for enjoyment purposes, and writing this was becoming more and more of a chore for me - not something I was finding much enjoyment out of.**

 **So for now Edge of Life: Requiem is going on hiatus, and my main focus for the foreseeable future will be my other (and personally much preferred) story Wraith. For those of you who have not read Wraith I highly recommend that you do, it is far superior to this story.**

 **Once Wraith is finished I might return to this, but beyond that I cannot say.**

 **All reviews to the previous chapter, as well as this one, will be answered by PM in the next day or two.**

 **Once again, I apologise.**


End file.
